


Educating the Commander

by Kemvee



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Art in chapter 3, Blow Jobs, Courtesan AU, Cullen Rutherford Smut, Cullen Smut, Cullenlingus (Dragon Age), Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, From Sex to Love, Hand Jobs, I'm Going to Hell, Idiots in Love, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, NSFW Art, Oral Sex, PWP, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut, Shirtless Cullen, Thedosian phone sex, enemies to lovers - ish, then from Chapter 6 onwards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:35:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 77,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24523210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kemvee/pseuds/Kemvee
Summary: Cullen found his curiosity piqued. “Can you speak any other languages?”With a sigh she straightened and reeled off an impressive list “Orlesian obviously, Antivan, Nevarran.” She paused and tapped her finger to her chin in thoughtful contemplation. Cullen, despite himself was drawn to the action so close to her mouth, her plush pink lips looked soft and tempting.“My Tevene is rather rusty which is why I’m so glad Master Pavus is a member of your little court. And I only know a few phrases in the Avvar tongue. Just enough to make the role-plays believable you understand, ” she winked with the final playful admission.Cullen couldn't help but imagine her naked on furs, backlit by flame and presenting for her ‘thane.’He swallowed down the lump that had formed suddenly in his throat and cursed the bulge making his breeches uncomfortably tight.---Amie is excited to be part of the Inquisition and eager to help in her own unique way. However she doesn't realize she has caught the attention of the previously unlucky in love Commander. A Courtesan AU that's honestly just a bit of fun, but will quite possibly hit you in the feels.NSFW will start in Chapter 3 and then not stop XD
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Cullen Rutherford/Original Female Character(s), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 533
Kudos: 366





	1. Economics

**Author's Note:**

> In this AU a Courtesan can be understood as a socialite and salaried/high end sex worker. If this at all offends you please do not read further.  
> NSFW content will be prevalent throughout this story, this is a pwp people.
> 
> Although I will only ever write Cullen x OC explicitly there will be occasional references to other ships/sexual encounters. Nothing in detail, I hate anything that detracts from the OTP don’t you?
> 
> If this is all agreeable to you then please do enjoy my absolutely filthy story.  
> Kemvee x

_ Isn’t this grand _ . Amie thought in awe as she stepped from the carriage and peered up at the large towers, imposing stone walls and ancient grandeur of her new home. For all her previous patrons' wealth she could confidently say that none of them had owned a castle before. And although on first inspection it perhaps lacked some elegance of the stately homes she was used to, the scale and impressive architecture alone was certain to quiet any of the more snobbish visitors to the Inquisition. 

A small smile played on her lips. Skyhold was magnificent and she would thank Andraste every day for leading her here and providing her with a much needed fresh start.

Glancing around the bustling courtyard filled with traders and tradesmen, soldiers and scouts it was apparent that rumors of the Inquisition's ever increasing status had not been over-exaggerated by her friend. 

“Lady Amie?”

A young page boy of about fourteen approached her. He was smartly dressed in green and the rolls of paper and wooden writing palette strapped to his belt marked him out as a messenger of sorts.

“Yes?”

“The Lady Ambassador asked for you to be brought to her at once. If you could follow me I shall have someone help with your luggage.”

“Of course” she said, willing the nervous butterflies in her stomach to calm themselves.

He gestured politely to a stone staircase and led her into the cavernous central hall. It was a little rough around the edges but the  _ tink tink _ of masons hard at work on the walls and floors and a few highly skilled craftspeople working on an enormous ornate window indicated that, in very little time, this would be space be almost regal in it’s baring.

And despite Skyhold only being rediscovered a couple of months ago there were already several petitioners and lesser nobles milling about, vying for power and influence in the rapidly expanding organisation. Individuals whose eyes she could feel on her as she strode forward.  _ Shoulders back, chin up  _ she chanted, remembering that her role was always to appear a vision of kind and calm serenity. 

There was still no doubt her arrival would be eagerly observed. 

Amie’s richly lined cloak boasted of wealth as did the trail of her velvet dress that peaked out from the covering. However it was undoubtedly her pastel pink wig that attracted the most attention. The brightly colored and changeable hair pieces she wore while in public marked her out. Just as a painter had his brushes and a blacksmith his hammer, there could be no doubting her role. 

_ Courtesan _ .

“Amie darling” a refined voice called out to her.

“Madame de Fer!” In the Orlesian style she offered a kiss to each cheek “It has been too long.”

Although Amie had expected a warm welcome she was pleasantly surprised with its immediacy. Whether it was an excuse to parade the unusually nervous Courtesan around or show off her own striking new dress Amie didn’t question it. The Iron Lady was an absolute Master of the game and was not one not to cross when it came to politics or the settled order of things. 

She had always been on good terms with the former court enchanter. The skilled Mage had once intervened when a youthful and overeager Lord tried to bypass the Courtesan’s set in stone rules, not long after her arrival to Val Royeaux. No one was to ‘touch’ her without her express consent as per the ancient tradition of her guild. Indeed the young lad’s public humiliation was such an open and scathing admonishment that, following the evening, her career had mostly been conducted in an honorable and agreeable fashion.

It had marked her out as protected, not only by her highly secretive and selective association but also by one of the most powerful women in the Empire.

_ It feels good to have a friend again _ she considered happily. Things had been less pleasant for her since Vivienne had joined the Inquisition nearly eight months ago but she wouldn’t dwell on that now, not when a hopeful horizon loomed.

Her arm linked with the Enchanter’s as they continued their slow preamble towards where her guide was waiting. The eyes of admiration followed their progress and it renewed her fragile confidence like nothing else. 

“I am so relieved you have come. The Inquisition are doing great work but they lack certain  _ luxuries  _ here in the mountains that are keeping the more wealthy donors away.”

Amie nodding in empathetic understanding “You and dearest Josie have done so much without any professional assistance. Now I’m here I hope to be of much use.”

They stopped not far from a beautifully carved throne “I am more than certain you will. Now do get settled and then you must come to my salon for tea tomorrow.”

“I shall look forward to it” Amie disentangled their arms and gave a gracious curtsy. 

The page who had waited patiently then showed her through some large doors near the end of the grand hall. Leading her along a narrow and still crumbling hallway she took the time to admire the view of the mountains from this height. Peaceful, serene and unfortunately offset with raised voices at the far end of the corridor.

“Absolutely not! We could pay for twenty foot soldiers with her fee.”

_ Oh _ , her steps faltered for a moment. She thought her position here was already secure but it seemed she may need to fight for it. 

“Please go right ahead” the boy said with a polite bow before retreating back to the little office they had passed through.

Amie stood by the door and took several deep breaths to compose herself.  _ First impressions are critical.  _ She recalled her earliest lesson, taught long before she even knew what a Courtesan was.

“Commander. Having Lady Amie here raises the Inquisition's reputation significantly. A Courtesan is considered a refinement which will let the rest of the world know that we are now receiving guests of a  _ certain _ class.”

_ Maker bless Josie, _ Amie thought just as a lilting Orlesian voice also rose up to speak in her defense. “Do not forget she will report into me also. A spy that can get behind even the most firmly closed doors is quite an asset non?”

If ever there was a time for a perfect entrance, that was it. Squaring her shoulders Amie placed her hands on the polished wood and pushed. The heavy door opened with a creak and the three figures before her turned at her intrusion. A brightly lit room with large panes of glass afforded a near panoramic view of the mountains she had just admired and in the center of the room was a huge table, strewn with a map that must have cost a small fortune. Two of the three figures stood around it she recognized immediately. 

Speaking up with her own unplaceable accent Amie announced herself with good humor. “It is amazing what some boast in the bedroom. I don’t know why they think they have to impress me, Maker knows I’m only there out of obligation.” 

“Amie!” Her old acquaintance rushed forward from the far side of a grand table to embrace her in a welcoming hug.

“Josephine, it’s been too long my friend. How is Yvette?”

“Oh you know her, everything is exciting. But we shall catch up later first allow me to introduce the other leaders of the Inquisition. Leliana you are of course already acquainted with-”

“Nightingale, I am so very sorry for your loss” Amie offered her condolences earnestly and unreservedly.

“Ah Lady Amie, you always know just what to say” Leliana said with a small incline of her head.

“This is Commander Cullen, leader of our Armies.”

The Commander didn't even bow as she offered him a polite curtsy, instead he quietly seethed and pinched his brow.  _ Fereldan manners _ she scoffed silently. As the only male in the room it had been him who had been bemoaning her arrival and she lamented that sometimes a good first impression was impossible to achieve.

“And behind you is our esteemed Inquisitor.”

Amie turned, a little surprised to see a bored looking Dalish elf look up from the chair where she was perched sideways. Brilliant blonde hair and an ornate Vallasin adorned her face; she was tremendously pretty, with lots to admire in her unblemished olive skin and petite but svelte form.

“You are the Courtesan” the Inquisitor spoke with a beautifully musical voice. “I’ll admit it did take some convincing on behalf of our ambassador and Madame de Fer for me to extend this invitation” she said while sweeping around the table.

“And I shall endeavor to repay your trust tenfold” Amie said respectfully,  _ at least the Inquisitor isn’t openly hostile unlike the- _

“I still think this is a wasteful use of our funds, we still have towers to rebuild and an army to properly equip. Inquisitor, surely you must agree?” He asked, clearly exasperated.

The Inquisitor patted his arm in a sisterly fashion and Amie saw the blush rise on the Commanders cheeks.  _ That is adorable _ Amie thought with glee, filing away that useful bit of information while her face remained perfectly neutral.

“Lady Amie. As you see my advisors are divided on whether or not a Courtesan is a suitable member of an Andrastian organisation.” The Inquisitor's dark eyes rolled, clearly the Herald of Andraste hadn’t gotten the notice that she was the devouts’ chosen one.

“I don’t share my spymaster's skill for intrigue so I shall speak plainly. Why are you here, in the mountains so far away from the bustle and wealth of Val Royeaux?”

Amie had heard of Inquisitor Lavellan’s directness,  _ curt but kind _ Josephine had said in a letter. So she replied in the same straightforward manner in which the question had been asked.

“The civil war in Orlais is bad for business. I find that whoever my current patron is I have instantly ostracized half of the other nobility.” Amie shrugged her shoulders “I am tired of it. So as my first act as an independent agent I have decided to throw my lot in with a much less fractured and undoubtedly more worthy cause.”

_ And as for any other reason that is quite personal _ she thinks, her face not betraying her real hope at being able to remain here. The Nightingale probably knew at least half of it if rumors about her spy network were accurate.

The Commander grunted at her answer and glared at her with obvious distaste. “I hardly see it as a noble sacrifice when we are paying you a king's ransom.”

Amie was trained for this, she could deal with grumpy men. Smiling sweetly she asked “Indeed? I assumed that the Inquisition were opposed to slavery, tell me do none of your staff receive salaries or just the ones you are prejudiced against.”

The Commander spluttered “That is not - I am not suggesting-”

The Inquisitor spoke for him “Of course we aren’t. But the Commander rightly wants to ensure that our resources are adequately placed.”

Amie folded her hands in front of her and spoke with optimism and positivity. “I promise that my being here will greatly increase the number of pledges that come forth.” She turned to address the Commander directly seeking to reassure him “With my work you will be able to afford all the soldiers you will ever need.”

“How so, by spreading your legs for every man in the castle?” He snapped.

Amie didn’t flinch. Even as the ambassador covered her mouth in shock and the Spymaster arched a single elegant brow. The Commander himself seemed surprised at his outburst and rubbed his gloved hand over his face before speaking through gritted teeth “Forgive me. I-I don’t mean to offend-” 

_ He didn't mean to offend? _ Amie almost laughed _ If this is him being polite then I’d hate to cross him _ .

She had heard it all before, especially from Fereldans who didn’t quite understand the nuance of her role. She would do her best to educate him but knew that it was unlikely he would ever be an ally.

“My duties are to maintain harmony Commander. I do that by quieting squabbles among the Ladies and stroking the egos of the Lords. I will not be  _ serving _ every man in the castle.” She emphasized her wording and saw the Commander flush with shame. “My work will benefit the health and safety of all in Skyhold by bringing in much needed sponsorship and of course by ‘spreading my legs’ for high-ranking men who may otherwise take liberties with your other workers”

The Commander looked affronted at her insinuation. “We may be in the mountains but we have the rule of law. Any such assault would be dealt with sternly.”

_ Is he so naive _ ? Amie held back her sigh. It seemed as if nothing she said would appease the man. “My Lord Commander” she began trying to cool his temper and her exasperation. “I’m not questioning your commitment to justice. But not every man who comes to Skyhold reports to you and many might not consider themselves beholden to the same laws as common soldiers.”

The Inquisitor spoke up again “We ensure all crimes whether committed high or low are dealt with fairly.”

Amie turned to address the Inquisitor directly, fixing her with what she knew was an earnest expression. “And I respect the Inquisitions stance. But a crime can’t be punished if it goes unreported... Do you really think your Elven kitchen-workers would report a rape if it was committed by some puffed up Marquis’ son?”

The silence that prevailed indicated that her point had finally been understood.

“That is an excellent point Lady Amie” the Inquisitor looked thoughtful. She had heard of her passion for the downtrodden and previously overlooked members of society, her support of the Mages was proof enough of that. She was never going to win over the Commander but seeing as the Inquisitor had the final say she continued her address to the leader.

“My being here will help protect those girls. If the entitled prigs are in their rooms waiting to see if I will attend them then they aren't wondering about your castle drunk and lecherous.”

After a moment's pause the Inquisitor gave a sharp nod of her head in approval. Josephine murmured “excellent” and began writing out notes to no doubt announce her arrival.

Amie gave a small and secretly relieved bow in thanks. “So, shall we agree terms?” She said with a kind smile, ignoring how the Commander turned away stiffly.

  
  


\----

Cullen had always found himself attracted to strong women. Laya Surana, Matilda Hawke and now, unsurprisingly, their Inquisitor Fi’laurel Lavellan. 

She was everything Cullen held up as the pinnacle of womanhood. Strong in her beliefs, even if they weren't the same as his own. Strong of body, her years as a hunter for her clan had left her with fighting skills that could rival even Cassandra. And of course she was beautiful. Her frame, although petite was taut and lean and her silvered blonde of hair, even fairer than his own was striking against her dark eyes. Her personality was even more admirable. She was direct, a fair leader and passionate. Cullen would know, they had been so close in Haven. Spending quiet nights down by the little jetty. Talking led to flirting, led to one or two shared goodnight kisses. 

But no more than that.

After their arrival at Skyhold something had changed and all steps towards intimacy ceased.

When he had tried to ask her about their stalled relationship she deflected at first. Saying that she had not been sleeping well and so needed her privacy on an evening but still cared deeply for him

He had found out from Dorian only a little while later that during their travels she had become very close to their Fade expert Solas.

Was there hope? The question had haunted him these past months. Cullen had never been one to give his heart easily and although he was a long way from being in love with Lavellan there had been green shoots of hope, that this time his admiration could lead to something more. All for naught. 

He felt irked when he heard them conversing in Elvhen, reminiscing about their shared history and gods. That then put him in a dour mood which contributed to his headaches that were getting more violent by the day. 

Cullen thought the worst of his symptoms had passed on the passage from Kirkwall. Cassandra knew the real reason for his ‘sea-sickness’ and Varric had been around the city long enough to suspect the real cause of his ailments. But every day he felt increasingly short tempered and was almost always snapping at someone or other.

What he needed now was a distraction either from work or a woman but some pleasant little interlude that he could reflect upon when his mood dulled.

“Commander, thank you for organizing today’s demonstration.”

Cullen was startled from his reverie as he was addressed by Lady Amie .  _ Be polite _ Josephine had said to him in private following on from his first disastrous interaction with the Inquisitions newest member. Another victim of his sharp words and quick fuse, he hadn't even remembered to approach her to apologize yet. 

“It’s no trouble where the men train.” he said, pausing to try and think of something clever or at the very least welcoming to say. “I can’t imagine what courtly ladies will gain from observing the military drills.” Cullen almost grimaced at his clumsy attempt at conversation. Amie, polite to a fault gave a delicate laugh at his forthrightness.

“Can you not?” she replied sweetly before heading to stand over with a little assortment of women and a few men who had come at her behest to watch his men train.

He sighed, _ well at least I haven’t openly insulted her this time. _ And he had to admire her diligence, the only person who possibly worked longer hours was him. She was always the first up in the Grand Hall and the last to leave, she was scarcely alone and always, always smiling. The only oddity in her person, if he could even call it such, was the wigs she wore. Today’s was a brilliant red, striking in the midday sun, especially compared to the sands and grays of the courtyard around them.  _ It compliments her rose complexion _ he thought with unbidden appreciation.

“Cullen.” Bull greeted him with a grunt as he too came to observe the drills.

“Bull” he responded in turn.

Cullen noticed a few of the assembled ladies' attention land on the pair of them, they giggled behind their fans at Bulls gracious wave.

He heard the mercenary give a long low whistle “That the new Courtesan?”

The Commander gave a quiet snort at his friend's unabashed appraisal. “Tempted Bull? Last I heard you preferred the Tavern girls and Chantry Sisters” he teased.

Bull gave a bellowing laugh and slapped him on the shoulder. “Nah, she’s not a natural redhead and you know I have my type.” 

Cullen’s eyes flicked back over to where Amie was standing poised like a graceful statuette. His lips tilted into a small smirk as he saw her pointing out the maneuvers and commenting on the skill of the soldiers, the effectiveness of the training and leadership of their superiors. He had to admit, her soft petitioning seemed to be working well with eager nods all round. There was no doubt Josephine would be receiving more pledges before the evening was out.

Bull, saw it all. “You should consider it though. Work out some of that tension that you’ve been carrying around since the boss started seeing her new boyfriend.”

“Maker” Cullen muttered, his humiliation rising. “Does everyone know about that?”

“Ben Hasserath remember,” He said, tapping the side of his nose.

Cullen scoffed at the suggestion. Bedding the Courtesan... _ that would be an absurd idea. Wouldn’t it? _ His gaze drew over her again. Her clothes were in rich fabrics but heavily layered leaving much to the imagination. Unlike the other peacocks who filled up the castle she wore no mask and come to think of it she didn't have an Orlesian accent either.

_ She is quite pretty and she did say her services were only for high-ranking men. _

Despite his common background, of which he was exceedingly proud he wasn’t ashamed to say that he would now fall into the category of her preferred clientele. 

The more he thought on it the more desirable the idea seemed. With his position he couldn't very well approach any of the workers, it would be too great a power imbalance. And his own soldiers were out of the question, that left very few potential bed mates.

Amie was stood with a content little smile on her lips, her green eyes shining with enjoyment at the spectacle. Wholly unaware of the Commanders internal struggle.  _ She is a professional and would be discrete _ . His libido helpfully supplied.

Yet what he wanted was a connection. Something to fill the small hollow in his heart that the Inquisitor had carved out for herself, before discarding carelessly. 

_ No. A whore isn’t for me... _ he decided before turning his eyes back to his soldiers and work.

_ Even if she is rather lovely _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins!  
> Our Commander hasn't even realized how hard he is going to fall for Amie.
> 
> I won't commit to a posting schedule for this story but it should be every couple of weeks. In later chapters I may open the story up to prompts so if you have any kink exploration ideas you would like to see for our beloved Cullen please comment or come see me on tumblr!  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kemvee


	2. Modern Languages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your kind words and encouragement on my first chapter.  
> I hope you enjoy this weeks installment as we start to dial the heat up...

Amie almost skipped away from her meeting with Mother Giselle.

It was nice to meet a Chantry member who was willing to look past her...past. And she thought it odd that the old and kindly woman could forgive her ‘work’ but not Dorian’s nationality. The Inquisitor had given the Mother a stern telling off after that debacle. As Dorian succinctly put it during one of their thrice weekly wine tasting sessions;  _ the lead representative of the Chantry within the Inquisition was letting her prejudice show _ and had now been scolded into a more tolerant behavior. Or maybe her good luck was actually just Josephine having some words behind the scenes. Her long term friend was one of the few people in Thedas who knew her future plans after all.

Whatever the reason Amie supposed it didn't matter considering the end result. She was going to help teach the children! Overjoyed was too mild a word to describe her relief and excitement on the subject.  _ I knew this was the right place to come _ . She thought happily, her beloved older sister had always been the wise one and now because of her foresight she might one day soon realize her dream. 

Whether her good fortune was a result of political pressure or providence she still felt it was proper to stop in and thank the Ambassador.

Amie laughed as she gave her startled friend a firm hug.

“Goodness it’s been so long since I have seen you without your hair pieces on i’d quite forgotten what you looked like!”

Amie flicked her simple brunette braid over her shoulder and gave a little turn in her modest grey tweed skirt and simple white shirt. The latter of which was cinched in at the waist by a small leather basque that gave her outfit just the right level of provocativeness should anyone actually recognize her out of costume. Which was unlikely, the nobility rarely looked past the dressings of an individual.

“Well I wanted to make a good impression, I have been to speak to our esteemed Mother Giselle after all.” She smirked.

“And…?” Josephine’s eyes twinkled, it had been her doing after all.

“You are too kind to me.”

“Oh nonsense, you are doing us a great favor in being here. I know we’re only covering a fraction of your usual fee.”

Amie shook her head “Most of that used to go to the Guild anyway and I’m a free agent now. But let’s not bring money into it, the way I see it I currently still owe you. So, is there anything I can do to help you prepare for tonight’s gala?”

“Don’t you need to prepare for your debut?”

“Josie, my debut was at eighteen. I can get ready in an hour now, and besides it’s not even yet noon.”

The Ambassador stroked the feathered tip of her quill against her cheek before scratching out a quick note. 

“There is one thing, but you may need to stop by the kitchens first.” She pulled the newly inked missive from her desk and handed it to Amie, whose brow arched as she skimmed the contents. 

* * *

  
  
  


Amie gave a quiet knock on the open tower door and made her way inside the cluttered office. 

“Darith shiril? No that doesn't sound right.” She heard the Commander mumble to himself. He was standing bent over his desk in study and seemingly uninterested in his visitor. Amie stood at what she assumed passed for ‘attention’ and waited patiently till he outstretched his gloved hand for her missive. She was perfectly positioned to see his scowl deepen when he scanned the Ambassadors message.

_ Commander,  _

_ You will not hide in your tower again this evening. Tonight is an important one so I must insist that you attend and at least try to make polite conversation with our guests.  _

_ As a compromise you can wear your armor. J _

“You may leave now.” He grumbled as he discarded the note carelessly on a stacked pile by his inkwell.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that Commander.” Amie said while sliding a plate containing a sweet roll on to the edge of his crowded desk.

“L-Lady Amie?!” He all but gasped as his eyes snapped up to meet hers. She gave a polite nod of her head while his gaze raked over her more simple dress and lack of accessories. “You look, ah, different.” He landed on somewhat clumsily. 

Amie tried not to take offence at his  _ Fereldan sensibilities _ . “Yes, I have today off to prepare for tonight’s gala but I owed Josie. Therefore could I please ask you to read the back of the Ambassador’s message?” The Commander looked confused but did as she asked while Amie pushed up the sleeves of her shirt and stooped to begin work. 

_ She is doing us both a much needed favor, be nice! J _

“Prepare to have your office organized!” She called up from her crouched position. “The sweet roll is a peace offering for the disruption.”

“My office doesn't need organizing.” The Commander complained with a huff, just as Amie stood with an armful of books she had collected from the floor.

He looked at the multiple dusty tomes, then her slightly bemused smile and she saw his shoulders slump ever so slightly in silent defeat. His hand slid up to rub at the back of his neck and she found she enjoyed the sight of the non-too friendly Commander chastised by her silent admonishment. “Ah well, perhaps-”

Amie took that as approval enough and set to work, speaking over her shoulder as she sought to refile the books into his disorderly shelf. “I’ll be done in no time. Please don’t let me disturb you.”

Despite hoping to be invisible Amie could  _ feel _ his eyes on her as she bent to pick things from the floor and placed them into their proper place.  _ I’m doing this for Jospehine _ she remembered,  _ not a cross man who would wish me a hundred leagues away _ .

She tidied books that had been stacked upon a chair at the side of the room, more from the floor around the large desk and even some by the foot of a training dummy that was riddled with what looked like dagger holes. 

The cleaning gave her further insights into the man. He had not one book of fiction or poetry, no personal artifacts that she could see. And as she eyed him surreptitiously there was a little lump of something like pity in her gut as she noted how tired he looked, how he had worry lines and was carrying cares she couldn’t comprehend.

_ Maybe I’ve been a little uncharitable towards him _ . Although far from vain she could admit that he had pricked her pride with his early prejudice against her and despite being nothing but polite if a little awkward since then she had been far from her usual charming self towards him. 

Was prejudice not the very fault she had picked up in Mother Giselle?  _ Well I shan’t make a hypocrite of myself any longer.  _ If the Commander chose to speak to her again she would treat him with the same kindness that she afforded everyone else.

Pleased with her work so far she paused to wipe away a little dust that had somehow gotten onto her cheek and saw the Commander regarding her openly.

“Isn’t this beneath you?” His question caught her a little off guard but it was asked without malice and was typical of people ignorant of her trade. 

“The Inquisition is paying my fee. Whether that involves me running errands, entertaining guests or lying on my back is of little matter.” She gave a practiced reply in what she hoped was an unaffected air. 

Books now away she started to collect the stray missives and crumpled up parchment that still littered the floor.

“And which do you prefer?” His dulcet tones asked.

“Pardon?” That question  _ was _ a surprise and Amie eyed him with bemused curiosity.

He blushed and stammered slightly “T-that is to say. Menial tasks or the  _ o-other _ work.” 

Amie had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing at his discomfort. _ The man leads the fastest growing army in Thedas and yet is too repressed to say sex? _ Feeling emboldened by his obvious embarrassment she gave a light shrug of her shoulders. “That depends entirely upon whether or not the person on top of me is a gracious lover.”

_ \--- _

At her startling honest answer Cullen felt himself blush even further and sensibly decided not to ask any more questions. Instead he dropped his eyes and focused on the unfamiliar words before him and not on the strikingly pretty girl milling about his office. Her simple attire was far more alluring than the heavy layers of rich fabrics she usually wore.  _ Not a natural redhead  _ he recalled as he admired her thick chocolate braid and how stray hairs framed her heart shaped face. Bulls tempting but unhelpful words from the other day echoing in his mind  _ “You should consider it. Work out some of that tension…” _

Cullen’s jaw clenched as he tried again to focus. “Dareth Sheral.” “Daret Cheral.” “Dareth Chiral?” He repeated, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration and to stave off another Lyruim headache.

“If I may?” The Courtesan said with a smile pointing to the book in front of him.

Cullen assumed she wanted to clear his desk and so straighted his long bent over back. “Please be my guest,” he gestured before him as she stepped closer.

A soft scent blend, a mix of sandalwood with notes of vanilla and lavender invaded his senses. It was soothing and pleasant without being overly powerful or cloying like the heavy floral scents he typically associated with the ladies of the Skyhold court.

Her proximity, her charming words and kind actions. It all stirred something within him which he had thought only the Inquisitor and her strength could inspire. Although surprising, the tingling sensation of attraction was not at all unwelcome.

“If you are trying to learn Elvhen you need to change the way you form your constants.”

“I’m sorry?” He gaped. That was not at all what he had been expecting her to say. His shock must have been evident as she gave him an indulgent sigh as if he were an unruly child.

“Fereldans. Your accent is so clipped and precise. Well, except Sera, I can’t understand a word she says most of the time.” She concluded with a little giggle.

Despite himself Cullen found himself agreeing with her assessment. “Ah yes, she certainly has a unique communication method. On one occasion she left a cake on my desk and I didn't dare eat it. Was it a prank? Or some kind of ambiguous sign that there was a flour shortage in southern Orlais. To this day I still have no idea.”

Amie laughed at his little anecdote and Cullen found that not only did he enjoy the pleasant sound. He found himself drawn to how her pinkening cheeks, dimpled from laughter, warmed her complexion.

Amie cleared her throat “Now, you are distracting me as I was saying.”

She leaned slightly over his desk and  _ he didn't mean to _ but his eyes were drawn to her chest. Her shirt has dipped at the collar to reveal a scintillating peak of her throat and the swell of her breast. His mouth felt suddenly dry.

“You are saying Dareeth Shereal, when it's pronounced more like Dah-reth Shayrall.”

“Dahreth Shayrall?” He copied automatically, not hearing his own voice as he admired a path down her smooth skin to the promise of soft curves threatening to spill forth.

“A bit better, but try to use more of your breath and allow your tongue to form the vowels fully.” She looked directly at him and repeated the phrase, slower this time, exaggerating the vowels. “Dareth Shiral.”

Cullen could only focus on her lips and the peak of her tongue as she demonstrated the word several times for his education, yet it only served to cloud his lust fogged brain.

“Dareth Shiral?” He said after she had paused and he had ripped his too hungry glare away from her kissable lips.

Amie smiled and gave a small clap of her hands. “That's much better. Which phrase is next? Ah,  _ Ar lath ma, Vhenan _ . Simply beautiful, are you writing poetry?”

Embarrassed by her sudden scrutiny and what she could possibly attribute to his motivations he closed the small phrasebook.

“I am surprised you speak Elven.” 

The Courtesan tilted her head in an innocent but alluring gesture.  _ Do not look at her chest! _ “The Guild insists on it’s members learning all love languages.”

Now he had her talking about herself he was determined to find out more about the enigmatic Courtesan. “Y-yes but you gave me the impression of being from nobility and they don’t usually concern themselves with such matters.”

Her face faltered. Her green eyes dulled only for a fraction of a second before she recovered quickly. 

“It’s no more than our Ambassador,” she said quickly,  _ too quickly _ . “Besides I wouldn't be of much use in Orlais if I didn't know what the servants were saying.”

Cullen supposed that made sense, but though he was nowhere near as skilled as their spies, her quick deflection made him feel that he  _ had _ stumbled upon some hidden secret.

Amie’s eyes had dropped from his and he scrambled to not let this conversation end on an awkward note. 

“Can you speak any other languages?” He asked with a genuine interest.

With a little hum of thought she straightened up from his desk and reeled off an impressive list. Cullen was an odd mixture of relieved and frustrated as her shirt fell back into place.

“Orlesian obviously. Antivan, Nevarran.” She paused and tapped her finger to her chin in thoughtful contemplation. Cullen, despite himself, was drawn to the action so close to her mouth. Her plush pink lips looked soft, tempting and were ever so distracting.

“My Tevene is rather rusty which is why I’m so glad Master Pavuus is a member of your little court. And I only know a few phrases in the Avaar tongue. Just enough to make the role-plays believable you understand.” She winked with that final playful admission.

Cullen felt an insistent throb rising in his leathers.  _ Andraste preserve me _ ! Now he can't help but imagine her naked on furs, back lit by golden flame and presenting for her ‘thane’. Eager and willing to offer up her body for barbaric and ritualistic lovemaking. 

Cullen stifled a groan and swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. He cursed the hardening bulge that was making his breeches much too tight. Thank the Maker he was still standing close to his high desk which obscured this damning physical response to her tantalizing words.

She deserved better than his lewd thoughts and unchaste observations. Lady Amie was clearly a highly educated woman, treating him with kindness and patience and he was acting little better than a teenage boy.

Amie continued, unaware of Cullen’s wildly veering thoughts. “However you should know that I’m no expert when it comes to Elvhen. Humans lack the musicality to get the phrasing  _ exactly _ right. If you want more practice I'd suggest speaking to Solas or the Inquisitor.”

The mention of the couple instantly soured his mood.

It, combined with his headache and the growing mortification at his very physical response to her person caused his temper to flare.

He all but snarled “Yes well, I’ll let you know when I start to take advice from a whore.”

She blinked. 

There was no other flicker of disappointment, sadness or anger at his outburst. Just one blink then her serene countenance and manners returned.

“Of course Commander.” She gave a slight bow of her head. “Your office is looking a lot more organized now so I shall leave you to your work. Please do not forget the gala.”

With that she swept out of the room, taking her warm words and soft smiles from his presence. Just as he had hoped.

As the door closed Cullen slumped over his desk, burying his head in his arms to hide his shame. “Well that went abysmally,” he mumbled into the silent room. _You should consider it, consider her, work out the tension_ … It was a foolish notion. A woman like that, refinement and beauty personified would have no interest in him. Not when he couldn't seem to control his emotions or libido around her. He threw the Elvhen phrasebook haphazardly towards his bookshelf. 

Angry when it landed open to the same page he was just studying with Amie.

What was he even doing chasing after the Inquisitor who wanted nothing to do with him and at the same time pushing away a woman who only wanted to do him a kindness.

_ “Maker’s breath  _ I am such an arse!” He groaned.

He lifted his head and glared at the sweet roll as if it could undo his idiocy. When no answer was forthcoming from the dessert he snatched it up and devoured it spitefully.

\---

Amie knelt in quiet reflection in the small chantry. This late in the afternoon all the services and sermons were over and so she found herself quite alone. Which was how she always preferred to take her prayers. 

She wanted to give to Andraste thanks for leading her to this place. For her opportunity to start teaching and for meeting such welcoming people.  _ Mostly welcoming _ she clarified to her God, recalling the Commander’s quick insults and unexplainable behavior. But more than all that she wanted to pray for the soul of her older sister who made it all possible.

“They said Andraste herself was at the conclave. That she saved the Herald and sent her to be our salvation.” She spoke quietly to the visage of her prophetess.

“I have to hope that she was there to guide you and those other poor souls safely to the Makers side. And that whatever pain or suffering you have had to endure these years has now been all forgotten.” Amie wiped away her tears before they could fall and fell into a silent contemplation.

  
  


“I didn't expect to find you here.”

Amie's eyes snapped open.  _ The Maker is testing my patience, he must be! _

Refusing to turn round to address the man who had been so rude earlier she spoke. “Are whores not permitted their faith?” She knew her tone was saccharine, she had been trained too well to permit hostility in her voice, but her question was far from innocent.

“N-no! Maker's Breath I only meant that the gala is this evening and I thought you would be-” 

“Preening?”

She heard him quietly groan before his steps brought him closer. 

“I was hoping to find you before then anyway. I owe you an apology.”

Amie waited, and waited. And then turned her head to the side to see him kneel down next to her intent on praying himself. She looked over his handsome profile as he turned his face up towards the statue of Andraste.

“That’s it?” She asked exasperatedly.

“What’s it?” he replied.

“Your apology?”

“Ah” he said dumbly.

Amie rolled her mossy eyes before turning back to the visage of Andraste, muttering out “You are so lucky to have Josephine for diplomacy.”

Surprisingly that drew a small warm chuckle from him. “Yes, believe me I am deeply aware of my own limitations and patience in that regard. I believe I have demonstrated my own incompetence quite well in my dealings with you.”

Amie stayed silent at his self-flagellation.  _ At least he is humble before his savior  _ she added the charitable thought as was in her nature _. _ But his presence by her side still irked her. Why was he still here if he had made his apologies, why not leave? It must be to chase her out of the Chantry and set her to work paying for his soldiers.  _ Yes that must be it _ . 

“And you needn’t worry about the gala, I shall don my armor soon enough. Your Inquisition is paying me handsomely after all.” 

Choosing to ignore her silent companion her thoughts turned to this evening and about her potential client, the first of her new patronage. It didn't matter much who she chose, assuming she received any propositions at all. Her confidence, still a little shaken from her last disastrous placement, had eroded her usual certainty in her attractions. The most important part of the evening was being seen to accept requests, that would ensure the word spread back down the Frostbacks and more wealthy benefactors would come to do business with the Inquisition.

“What do you pray for?” The Commander's quiet question cut through the silence and her thoughts .

“That's rather personal” she said with a start, her answer uncharacteristically undiplomatic.

“Oh yes, forgive me” his eyes turned downcast as if he were a kicked puppy.

She didn't know whether she found his presence endearing or vexing. One certainty was that he was too honest, too open. If the Inquisition ever secured an invitation for the peace talks in Orlais the nobles were going to eat him alive.

Still, he had apologized after a fashion. And her chosen tenant was kindness above all else, so she chose to humor him and answer honestly.

“I am praying for the strength to endure.” Her ‘delicate’ work wasn’t bad most of the time. And she always took precautions to keep herself free from illness and child. But on days like today when she would rather give herself over to prayer and reflection she found her forced cheerfulness trying.

“Huh” the Commander said. “Me too.” 

They fell into a comfortable silence after that small exchange. The Commander did not press her for more information and she was grateful for the fact. Too many in the Game were determined to wheedle any and all secrets from her. It was nice to have her silence respected and to not have to fill a pause with idle chatter or gossip.

When the bell rang to announce the waning day they both shifted to stand. The Commander even in all his armor was more spritely than she and already standing offered her his hand. He was surprisingly gentle as he helped her to her feet, his doe skin gloves smooth and pleasant against her own soft hands. “My Lady” he said with a voice like velvet and a courtly bow over their joined hands. He looked up with a strikingly attractive smirk that pulled at the scar on his upper lip.  _ His eyes _ , she gasped. She hadn't noticed them before now but they shone like molten gold in the candlelight of the chapel.

“I shall look forward to seeing you this evening” he said confidently and with an appealing self-assuredness. They parted ways by the Chantry door but she lingered for a moment longer among the setting sun to calm herself and school her face.

Amie had been struck speechless. 

It had been a  _ long _ time since she had felt the blooming heat of attraction or the traitorous thump of her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Week: Cullen's attraction bubbles over into action
> 
> If you like my work please do drop me a kudos or comment. It really keeps me motivated xxx


	3. Biology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW ahead!  
> Also this is your final warning about the PWP nature of this story.  
> Our OC is a sex-worker and if that at all offends you now is the time to stop reading.
> 
> If not, prepare for things to escalate pretty quickly XD

Rising steam, thick with Amie’s chosen perfume fogged up her room as she bathed. Although she had boasted to Jospehine about being able to get ready in an hour she wasn’t above taking longer on special occasions. Her first ‘formal’ engagement at Skyhold was just such an event and Amie cleaned and polished every inch of her body before stepping from the water of her copper bathtub.

She oiled her skin while it was still wet, spending the time while it was drying and softening to choose her ensemble for the evening.

Did she want to look gently alluring or ostensibly seductive? Subtle or sinful? She decided on the former remembering that while they declared no allegiance, the Inquisition was still borne from the Chantry and the late Divine. And it wouldn't do to scandalize the more conservative members of the organisation. This was a court in the mountains not one of Vivienne's salons, where the rules of fashion often devolved into how much skin you could show without causing the men to have nosebleeds. Amie smiled fondly, _Orlais_ , there was nowhere else she both loved and loathed in equal measure.

A soft pastel dress was selected as it would help her stand out against the dark colors of the season. It was in her preferred, more practical style for ‘evening’ engagements and it matched her blush pink wig. 

_Modest for now_ she thought, pleased with her choices. She could save her more daring looks for grander occasions. Her long plain hair was braided and wrapped into a tight crown against her scalp then piled pink curls were affixed to her head with multiple crystal tipped pins.

She slid pristine white silk panties up her thighs, followed by matching sheer stockings on each leg, held up with a delicate belt that sat low across her hips. Although she had an arsenal of more daring lingerie, corsets, bras and bustiers in _every_ fabric and cut imaginable they could be uncomfortable if worn all night and hindered her ability to dance. Tonight was about being seen in public and less about which bedroom she decided to retire to.

Sitting down to her vanity she moisturized and buffed the skin on her face and neck till it was radiant. Then she took out her stains, applying it sparingly to her cheeks and in a complementary but darker shade on her full lips. Lastly her eyelashes were tinted and were lined on the top lid with a black khol. She set the whole with a translucent powder that added just a touch of pearlescent sparkle to her skin.

She stepped into her dress, pulling the tightly fitted bodice over her nude bosom and allowing the softly billowing skirts to fall about her legs. She deftly criss-crossed ribbons down the lengths of her arms and fastened them with a sparking cuff at each wrist. The neckline dipped just low enough to reveal the top of her breasts but no more and the whole ensemble was fastened with a simple knot at the back of her neck. There really was such an underrated element of practicality in being able to remove a dress with little more than tug of a bow. Her shoes too, simple white high-heeled boots fastened with a matching ribbon.

Lastly she slipped a crystal pendant which hung on a long chain over her hair. The necklace sat snugly between her breasts and was beautifully iridescent, it always caught the candlelight just so and invariably drew a person's attention downwards.

She had had the thing filled earlier in the day. One of the Guilds proprietary concoctions like her daily potion to ward off child and disease. This was an oil that when used topically made for an excellent lubricant, however one drop in some water or wine and it became a powerful sedative, her only defense should her chosen companion for the evening prove to be unkind.

Amie knew she was looking well as she gave a quick twirl in her large standing mirror, clearly the mountain air suited her. The Organza dress shifted like a liquid rainbow as she studied her figure, it clung to her in all the right places while adding grace to her movements.

_Elegant, eyes down unless you are approached. Meek, submissive, kind and caring._

_Meek and Submissive?_ Amie almost scoffed, what a relief the Commander wasn’t aware of her tenants, she had been positively rude to him today in the Chapel. Something about him managed to wheedle its way past her carefully erected guard and forget her place. As well paid as she was she was still a servant of sorts, he might overlook some belligerent behavior because of her station but every man had limits. _He did call me a whore_ , she was pleased to remember. 

It wouldn't do to remember the other, decidedly more pleasant sensations he had stirred within her. Attraction, preferential affection, lust. None of it was compatible with her work. And it wasn’t as if he was going to be even the slightest bit interested in her services and skills when he was busy learning Elvhen for his Inquisitor. _Adorable love-sick man_.

* * *

  
  
Of course she was fashionably late. Dinner was over, all tables had been cleared and everyone was waiting for the Minstrel and her accompanying players to strike up their instruments for the evening. 

Amie channeled her long forgotten confidence and strode boldly through the center of the grand hall. There was a swell of silence as she made her entrance and felt the sensation of all eyes turning toward her. It was a heady feeling rendering a room speechless and she felt powerful, desirable, even happy at the open admiration.

As was proper she made her way over to the Inquisitor’s throne and paid her respects with a curtsy. The Herald was deep in conversation with her Elven hedge mage, wholly engrossed in his words and gave little more than a nod of acknowledgement at her presentation.

She gave a deep bow to the advisors who were assembled just a step down from the throne. She studiously avoided the burning gaze of the Commander even as he offered a mumbled ‘Lady Amie’ in greeting. Josephine and Leliana both welcomed her warmly and complimented her styling. 

“Excellent entrance my dear,” Vivienne said as she approached from behind with an older man in tow.

“Madam De Fer!” Amie kissed her cheeks. “Thank you for your kind words, you look resplendent this evening.”

Vivienne gave a cat-like smile at the compliment. “Allow me to introduce Count De Cardele, Count this is Lady Amie our absolute treasure.” Amie gave a low curtsy as she surreptitiously eyed the gentleman.

 _De Cardle_ Amie thought. _Ah yes,_ he had tried to remain neutral in the civil war, an impossible task. But Amie was concerned with people not politics. He wore a wedding band but also a small black ribbon over his heart. _A widower_ she thought sadly. 

“May I have the first dance my Lady?”

Amie accepted with a smile and took the man’s hand just as the bard began to strum out a few opening notes of a traditional waltz.

As she expected at the end of their ten minutes together the widower didn't say the required words. He was looking for friendship not companionship. “I thank you for humoring this old man. Sometimes it is nice to just feel young again.”

“But of course monsieur and I will be more than happy to oblige you should you ever wish to dance, laugh or talk or about your beloved late wife.”

The Lord’s eyes shined with appreciation “You are a kind soul.” He said with a kiss to her hand and moved away. Not three seconds later another slightly younger gentleman with an appreciative look in his eyes approached her. She was still slightly breathless from the last dance Amie knew then that she had made the right decision to not wear a corset. _Seems I shall be popular tonight_ and as the young man looked over her with open admiration added _in more ways than one_.

  
  


\---

After his social faux pas earlier in the day Cullen had been determined to act professional and cordial for the whole of the evening and make a special effort to not insult the Courtesan when she made her appearance. He had held a few conversations with the Nobles who were of a military mindset. Each offering their suggestions to the young general about how they would quell the rebel Templars or bring peace to a demon beset region.

Cullen was polite, he was well mannered, Josephine had even given a nod of approval at his concerted change of heart.

And then Lady Amie had appeared.

There was no chance of him insulting her with clumsy words for he was rendered immediately speechless. The conversations he had been intending to carry on with their honored guests were cut short as his attention was wholly focused somewhere far more agreeable than strategies and skirmishes.

 _Andraste above_ but she was beautiful. The heavily layered clothes she typically wore around the keep had been concealing a figure that must have been carved by the Maker himself. It was full, soft and wrapped in an appealing silk like fabric that clung to her curves like a river lit up at sunset. 

Her dress seemed modest at first glance. But her arms that appeared covered were actually wrapped in ribbons that exposed the flesh beneath. Her neckline was hardly scandalous but as she had bowed before them her twinkling crystal pendant had drawn his eyes downwards. Her breasts looked utterly exquisite encased in the tightly folded tulle, the tantalizing view snatched away before it could be burned into his memory.

And when she walked and danced the many layered skirt parted around her to reveal her long, stocking covered legs beneath two parallel slits that ran almost to up to her waist.

How could something that appeared innocent provoke such indecent thoughts?

He didn’t know or care. Instead Cullen watched with rapt fascination as she fluttered around the grand hall like an ornate butterfly. Dancing with the men, chatting with the women and offering coy smiles and pretty looks to all.

He began to notice that the men would all lean to whisper something into her ear at the end of their dance. He noticed how once alone Amie would take a quiet moment to herself before waiting, patiently to be addressed again. He had no right to feel jealous but found he was as all seemed to be able to approach her with ease, while he stood away awkwardly and longing.

A young pup of Marquis now had her company and Cullen heard the leather of his gloves creaking from the force of his grip on his sword hilt as the lord trailed his hand lower and lower down Amie’s spine. _I should intervene_ , he thought and was about to when the Courtesan herself corrected his movements and unwelcome hand placement, offering him a kind but cautionary glare. Still, as the music quieted he leaned in to whisper something in her ear, she smiled prettily and he could see her mouthing her thanks.

“What are they all _saying_ to her?” He asked no one in particular, his outburst surprising himself.

“Who?” The Ambassador followed the trail of his eyes, “Oh Lady Amie. Well they will be saying ‘ _Might I entreat you for your favour_?’ or variations thereof. Do you know nothing of Courtesans?” 

“Don’t be too hard on our Commander Josie. He is a man of action and strategy not courtly manners or Social refinement,” Leliana added in her sing song voice. 

He shook his head in frustration. Why had he asked? The other advisors, not unlike his siblings back when he was a child delighted in any chance to tease him. 

The Ambassador sensed his discomfort and feeling charitable and took it upon herself to educate their unworldly Commander about the Courtesan’s arts. 

“The words and practice are mired in ancient traditions. People petition for her favor then at the end of the evening she will go to one of their rooms. When she arrives there is a negotiation, if she finds the terms agreeable she will offer to attend you and then she is yours. For an evening at least.”

“That seems...” _oddly straightforward_ he thought _._ “Very Orlesian.” He said dryly.

Josephine laughed in agreement. “It does although it’s actually an Antivan practice. The Guild is based and train the girls there, only one is admitted per year which is why having Lady Amie’s services is such a rare treasure.”

“I think it all adds to the mystery of her and her lovers. No one knows who has been fortunate enough to receive her attendance unless they decide to boast themselves and even that is considered in bad taste.” He didn’t observe the twinkle in Leliana’s eyes as he considered that new information.

 _No one knows_ . He glanced to Filaur’el sitting above them all on her dais and how her attention was, as always, solely fixed on Solas and their impenetrable conversation. _No one would find out_.

Josephine next to him now made some passing remark about the pair and their intimacy.

It was as he expected and he finds, oddly, that it doesn't even sting anymore. His plan to learn Elvhen had been a final and desperate one to win back her attention. And since the arrival of the Courtesan his admiration had been far more agreeably diverted.

 _Amie,_ he says in his mind. His focus is all for her and her alluring presence as she makes laps of the Grand Hall in the arms of the noble visitors to Skyhold. _No one would know, she wouldn’t find out._

Only a short while later, as he saw the Courtesan once again unattended Cullen rallied his battle hardened fortitude and moved towards her. She stood a little ways back from the dance floor, her hands folded in front of her. Her kohl lined eyes dipped demurely.

As he approached she raised her gaze reflexively, the sensual effect of her pretty green eyes flicking up past her long lashes caught him off guard and rendered him temporarily speechless.

There was a minute flicker of confusion on her face before she was composed enough to offer him a low curtsy. Cullen stifled a groan as the action once again showed him far too much tempting flesh.

“Commander,” She greeted him warmly. “I hope you are having a pleasant evening?” 

If there was any awkwardness in their interaction it was all from him. He gripped the hilt of his sword for support. “I, thank you it is-”

Her tinkling giggle cut short his stammered reply and her hand on his bracer, such a simple touch, somehow set his heart racing. 

“You don't need to be polite with me. I can see from your face and the fact you are readying your weapon how much you must despise this whole affair.” She leaned forwards and whispered conspiratorially “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Yes!” He agreed readily, his embarrassment dwindling in her reassuring company. _Yes it would be…_ Maker but she did have a way of setting him at ease quite like no one else. He felt it when they were together in the Chantry. Kindness, understanding and the patience of a saint. If he met her without the glamour of her station he would almost say her manners passed for that of a lay sister.

“Have you come to dance Commander? I can recommend several eligible partners for you if you don’t wish for my company.” She asked him sweetly, carrying on the conversation for the pair of them.

“No I-” Cullen swallowed back his nerves and took a step closer. Placing one hand on her bare shoulder he leaned into her person. Her scent sandalwood and vanilla, whipped up his desires and chased away the last of his hesitation.

The words, little more than a whisper were spoken into her ear and he heard her quiet gasp.

“My Lady I want to entreat you for your favor, though my words are not courtly and my manners are as rough as my hands, but please. I ask that you consider it. Consider me.” 

“T-Thank you. I-I will.” She said, her cheeks scarlet and eyes downcast. At her otherwise silence on the matter Cullen felt his humiliation rising. He didn't linger in the hall beside his now silent companion. Retreating instead to the safety of his tower, his work and missing the look of longing she cast his way as he fled.

* * *

  
  
  


Cullen had long shed his armor and was sat in his newly cleared chair working at his desk. He had a glass of mead to keep him company and reports, always more reports to be reviewed, approved and cataloged. All to try and distract himself from his utterly shambolic proposition.

How could a man who had been a leader for years, be responsible for hundreds and now thousands of men, be unable to ask a beautiful woman to bed without making a fool of himself. _I should have kissed her hand, or danced with her first._ He thought with a grimace rubbing his tired eyes. He could have done any number of gentleman-like things and instead presented himself as an artless barbarian. Courtesan’s moved in the highest echelons in society and he had been a vain to think that he had any charms that would entice her.

He was so wallowed in self pity he almost didn't hear the light tapping at his door.

“Enter,” he said automatically. Not raising his eyes from the glass in his hands, he was long used to runners disturbing him at all hours.

“Commander?” A distinctly feminine and accentless voice filled his study.

Cullen’s eyes snapped up and he rushed to stand to his feet. “You came?” He almost couldn't believe it. Thinking her a hallucination brought on by his withdrawals or the mead he had been consuming he took several steps towards her.

“Ah-” The Courtesan held up her hand to stop his approach and he halted as if it were a spell. “I haven’t agreed to anything yet, go and sit down.” She insisted calmly.

Cullen was too nervous to remain in his chair so he instead leaned against the edge of his desk, hoping to look unaffected when he was sure the thrumming of his heart must be visible.

Amie stood with her hands folded neatly together before her. “I find myself curious about you Commander. After your rather rude behavior I confess I did not expect you to be interested in my services.” She asked, waiting for him to answer her unspoken question.

“I am only a man-” Cullen said, his hands gripping the edge of his desk to try and hold back the coil of anticipation tightening inside him.

“That you are,” her eyes trailed over his body. _Are her cheeks pink?_

When she spoke again she was guarded. “I won’t be party to infidelity, are you married Commander or do you have a lover who would be hurt by our spending some time together?”

“No!” He rushed to answer, his mind conjuring all the possibilities that their ‘ _time together_ ’ could entail. But he saw the Courtesan’s eyes narrow, she was intelligent, a master of the Game and probably already saw more than he had knowingly revealed. He would be honest.

“There was one that I cared for but she…” _Prefers one who can speak to her in her own voice, can amaze her with tales of ancient times_. Cullen sighed “Prefers another. I am unattached,” he said. His eyes dropping to his feet. 

It sounded pitiful even to his own ears. And he almost flinched as he heard the office door close with a resounding thud. 

_Of course_ , Cullen couldn't blame her, she could have her literal pick of any number of eligible men. _Why settle for a taking a lover who is broken and callous and-_

“Well then. Allow me to attend you.” Her soothing voice pierced his self pity.

Cullen’s eyes jerked upwards to where she remained smiling demurely. As she slid the bolt across the door his cock throbbed “You, you will?”

“Yes, I am at your command.” She said with that little alluring tilt of her head.

 _Maker, at his command..._ Cullen gaped as she stood before him, all beauty and soft curves. Radiating kindness and sensuality and wrapped like the most enticing Satinalia gift. 

“What do you desire of me?” She urged, leaving her position by the door and moving a little closer to where he was perched on his desk.

Cullen couldn't form the words.

He desired _everything_ from her. But first he wanted to see her as a woman, not as a Courtesan and her client. Not wrapped up in finery and falsities. He liked the girl who had barged into his office and offered him a sweet roll. He liked the woman who could put him in his place with just a look and an armful of books.

 _And to that end_ “take that ridiculous wig off. ” he growled, surprising himself with the coarseness in his voice. Amie arched a brow in surprise but did as was asked. The piled colored curls were removed revealing a neatly twisted crown atop her head.

“Would you like my hair down?” She suggested.

“Yes,” he breathed. 

With deliberate slowness she removed each pin till the twisted braid fell from its crown and fell over her shoulder. Then she untied the black ribbon at the end, allowing it to drop to the floor and teased apart the thick strands. Luxurious chocolate waves spilled free over her shoulders and down to the base of her spine.

Cullen had not even realized his hand had drifted to the front of his breeches as he palmed himself through the fabric. His hardening length already painful in the tight restrictive clothing.

“T-take off your dress.” His order was barely above a whisper.

First she undid the clasps at her wrists, the ribbons criss-crossed down her arms unfurled free baring unblemished skin. Then she raised both hands behind her neck and pulled each side of the bow which secured her gown, his eyes not leaving her for a moment.

“Yes,” Cullen whispered as he freed his solid erection, stroking it with the same deliberate slowness with which she was tormenting him.

Slowly she peeled down the rivers of color which were draped over her body. Cullen groaned as her full breasts were revealed, her dusky nipples were large but tightened into taut little buds as the chill from the room cooled her skin. The narrowness of her waist was perfectly balanced out by the swell of her voluptuous hips that tapered down into long, lean legs. 

And as the fabric formed a puddle by her feet Cullen felt his tip leak at the sight of her in only her jewelry, panties and delicate stockings.

She stepped closer to him and Cullen drank in every detail like the voyeur he was proving to be. Every freckle, every mole, how her blush spread from her cheeks down her chest and how pliable and pert her breasts looked.

“You are so beautiful,” he all but whimpered as she gave a small twirl for his benefit.

Her eyes darkened as she saw how he stroked himself to the sight of her near nude body. Cullen groaned as she licked her lips in anticipation.

“Commander,” She purred. “While I am more than content to be a muse for your self-pleasure, I am also _very_ willing to participate. You can ask anything of me.”

_Oh_ but he wanted to. He wanted to have her act out his deepest most secret fantasies, wanted her to call out his name as he filled her over and over. Wanted to learn all about the arts of pleasure she had been trained in and he wanted to drown himself in her scent and body. But how could he? He was no virgin but it had been too long since his last lover and his wishes died in his throat.

“C-come here.” He begged and she did, swaying hips carrying her forwards till she was close enough for him to smell her intoxicating perfume. He abandoned his weeping cock and raised his hand towards her chest. 

“Can I touch you?” He asked with hesitation, fearful that she was nothing but a mirage created by his lonely, lustful mind.

“Yes.” She breathed, taking hold of his outstretched hand and pulling it towards her bared breast. Her skin was as soft as the silks she had been draped in only moments before. It was smooth and unblemished, such a contrast to his hard and scarred warriors hands. 

Cullen’s gentle caresses soon turned into a clumsy pawing as he squeezed and weighed her heavy breasts with rabid fascination and eager hands. He worried her nipple with the pad of his thumb, enjoying the little hum of appreciation she gave at the action and how the peak stiffened from the stimulation. She arched are back, pressing herself closer to him murmuring "Commander" has he explored her. Encouraged by her boldness he raised his other hand to her parted lips and brushed his index finger along the plush flesh. His breath hitched as she flicked out her tongue to lick the digit. Cullen lifted his eyes to hers, holding her gaze steady as she repeated the delicate little lapping a few more times, before drawing it into her hot mouth.

He moaned as she sucked, pulled and mouthed his finger. Her lashes fluttered closed as she focused on such a small simple task that brought him almost to his knees. His eyes that had been locked on her sensual lips, now dropped to his neglected member. He couldn’t ask her. His years trampling down on his own wants and desires had left him without the words. Sensing his hesitation, Amie paused in her attentions and released his finger with an alluring pop. 

She tilted her head to the side, an invitation in her smile. 

“Would you like me to suck your cock Commander?”

_Andraste preserve me_. She had to be a desire demon sent to entice and enact upon his unspoken desires.

“Maker yes.” He all but wept as she dropped to her knees before him. Cullen looked down hungrily as the beautiful seductress ghosted over his rock hard length and swollen tip with her petal pink lips.

Then she licked him. A soft teasing stroke of her tongue from the base of his sac all the way along and up to his slit. His shirt, obstructing his view, was hastily ripped over his head and discarded. He may still have been wearing his breeches, but that didn't stop her taking a firm hold of his cock and guiding it past her glistening lips and into her wet and willing mouth.

“Amie!” He hissed with pleasure. His hand slipped into her silken waves, feeling the soft strands move through his fingers as she took him deep into her throat and sucked on him eagerly. 

Cullen was lost to the sensation of her tongue and lips and hands all working in sinful tandem. In and out. Hot and wet. Pulling and sucking till his hips began to rock towards her to match her torturous pace. He moaned when she began to gently caress his balls, massaging strokes that combined with her suctioning mouth dragged him towards his end at an alarming pace.

“So good, so beautiful, so, so…” Cullen groaned praises through clenched teeth then bit down on his lip to try and stave off his orgasm. But it had been too long, she was too skilled and Maker above the sight of her kneeling and working him with closed eyes and rapt concentration, little hums of approval from deep in her chest adding vibrations of pleasure to the cataclysm of sensations.

It was too much. He tried to hold his hips still but couldn't stop his now frantic thrusts, his abs clenching as he fucked her mouth for a last desperate minute before as his climax crashed into him. His cock hit the back of her throat and twitching he spilled his seed onto her waiting tongue and he watched as she drank it down.

Cullen released her head and she sat back, licking her lips with self satisfaction and looking up at him with heavy lidded eyes.

“Will that be all Commander?” Her tone was neutral, neither eager nor unwilling. With a sudden burst of clarity following his release he knew he should dismiss her. This had been a maker-sent gift for him but no doubt a woeful obligation for her.

But then he saw it. The slightest movement beneath her where she was trying to rub her thighs together. And he recognized then that there were somethings even a courtesan couldn't fake. Large pupils, flushed cheeks and again that small roll of her hips as she searched for friction against her apex.

The thought that she might actually _desire_ him set his blood to boil and fueled his renewed arousal. Cullen would pierce that perfect facade of hers, he would take his pleasure from her again and hope he can reward her in turn. 

Feeling suddenly confident he cupped her chin and gently edged her up onto her knees with her hands resting on his hips for balance. She parted her lips as he stroked along her jaw, a small little moan betraying her very real passion.

He was the Commander and tonight she was his. “No, my beautiful Amie,” he folded his body forward to meet her.

“You are staying the night.” He ordered and at last crushed their lips together in a domineering kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you had as much fun reading that as I did writing it!
> 
> Update: extra special spicy art


	4. Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has very little plot. I'm almost ashamed... Almost.

_ “...But please, I ask that you consider it. Consider me.” _

From the moment the Commander had quietly uttered those words Amie had been reeling. She watched him flee the ballroom, her mind full of questions and confusion.

How had she misjudged him so badly?

Her first concern had to be his attachment to the Inquisitor. She recalled the faint blush on the Commander’s cheeks during her presentation in the War Room when Filaur’el had addressed him. There was no mistaking his attraction to her, it was almost reverence. Amie and the Courtesan’s guild detested infidelity, it was bad for business if one went about destroying relationships, so at once she turned her questioning gaze up to the throne.

And saw the truth of the matter. Unaware of all but themselves, their heads tilted towards each other in quiet conversation, every signal in their body language indicated that they were more than friends. Filaur’el and Solas made a handsome couple. Sighing sadly, Amie now understood that the Commander was in the unhappy situation of having unrequited love. His attempt to learn Elvhen which she thought of as a romantic gesture, was now cast in a more tragic light. Amie knew what it was like to be passed over and her initial surprise at his request soon transformed into pity. 

As intrigued as she was Amie owed the Inquisition. And so she danced and courted requests for another hour, the whole time trying, and failing, to keep her mind from the lonely Commander. His odd behavior in the Chantry made more sense now. His position offered him very few peers. She knew Josephine and Leliana teased him, Cassandra and the other warriors of the inner circle were often on mission. And Dorian, who they both were intimately acquainted with, was friendly to the point of flirting. She could readily imagine how that would make the almost repressed former Templar uncomfortable after a time.

His plea for her favour now struck her deeply, did he even want sex or just a friend and even if he did want the former  _ why me? _ Did he not all but despise her? He had made little attempt to hide his disgust at her profession and while Amie wasn’t averse to an angry fuck on occasion she had hoped her first patron would be a little gentle. She wasn’t above being flattered into bed and her still uncertain confidence would have preferred it. 

Pondering thus she approached his tower, the light from the flickering sconces guiding her path. It was late enough that most of the revellers had already retired and the guardsmen knew better than to comment on a Courtesan’s movements. 

The negotiation was a quick one. _ “I am only a man.” _ He had said when she asked him directly about his attraction to her. She had almost scoffed at his frankness. Andraste forgive her _ but I’m only a woman _ she thought and the Commander, as terse and standoffish as he could be, was still breathtakingly beautiful. The whole of Skyhold knew it, that was why she had arranged the public training sessions for the nobility. He may not realise it himself, but the intimidating general barking orders in his striking armor fluttered far more hearts than even a whole squadron of half-naked soldiers.

When she studied him in the candle-light of his office she was delighted to find that he looked just as good without his armor as he did in it. And then,  _ Maker above _ , he had ripped away his shirt.

She may have been kneeling by that point but even from below she could discern his hard body, cast in striking shadows that highlighted mouth-watering dips and ridges. How his sculpted abdominals flexed and shuddered as she pleasured him eagerly, her own arousal fueled by his.

The final misconception was that her chosen client for the evening was a shy and unconfident lover. Of this she had been most certain. 

Everything about their first carnal interaction had spoken to his gentle nature. He had been surprised that she would even attend him, had stammered and been nervous. He was hesitant to touch her, unwilling to vocalise his requests or even make a sound. It had taken all of her skills in subtle observations and the small clues of his body to determine what his unspoken desires were.

Only when she began to please him with her mouth, working him in tandem with her hands and lips and tongue did she finally feel him relax enough to moan and praise and express himself in that husky baritone. It was highly gratifying to hear and feel the sternness strip away and she was happy she had chosen him and shown him this kindness. 

Amie still had the taste of him on her tongue. She had been fully prepared to be sent away after his relief. Content to return to her room and sate herself on her fingers to the memory of his hard body and how his soldiers hands guided her movements as he surrendered to their affair. 

And then everything had changed.

His hand along her jaw was firm as he tilted her head upwards and instead of being thanked and dismissed,  _ “No, my beautiful Amie, you are staying the night.” _

She found herself receiving his bruising desperate kiss.

Amie was pulled from her knees and once standing, quickly spun so that she was pinned against his enormous wooden desk. Her small yelp of surprise was soon silenced by the crushing press of his lips against hers. All hard and domineering and hungry. His hands did not stop moving as he sought to map every inch of her skin and his tongue, probing, demanded entrance to do the same to her mouth.

The Commander was a sensational kisser. She could taste the mead on his tongue, the sweetness mingling with the bitterness of his spend on her palette. His masculine scent, Oakmoss and Elderflower was heady and intoxicating. He was everywhere in her touch, taste, hearing and smell. All her senses were consumed by him and she wanted more.

One of his hands came to grab at her stocking covered thigh and he hoisted her leg up and over his hip. Amie gripped the short curls at the nape of his neck, appreciating the texture and the other hand she placed on his sculpted shoulder. It was all she could do to cling onto him for support as he ground his still exposed cock against her covered core. Her tiny movements before were nothing compared to the delicious desirous burn his rolling hips were now fuelling within her.

His hot breath tickled her ear as he whispered, “You want this don’t you?”

“Yes,” she confessed, trying to pull their bodies closer together. Loving the feel of his hard planes and coarse chest hair against her soft skin.

“For all your professionalism. For all your rules you can’t hide your needy, wanton nature from me.”

_ Maker above _ , how was this the same man who had blushed and stammered when she had described her role to him only earlier that day in this very office.

He was right. She couldn’t deny that she did want him. She wanted him more than almost anyone these past ten years and if there was to be a man, her first lover as a free agent she would very much like it to be him.

Breaking their kiss she fixed her eyes on his, gold and green met and each measured the lust in the others gaze. “Take me to bed.” She demanded simply, there was no point in playing games or acting the coy maiden now.

The Commander stepped back and dropped her leg to the floor. Already she missed the grounding press of his body against hers and he looked her nearly nude body up and down, calculating, contemplating.

“Please.” She begged, embarrassed at her forwardness. A Courtesan wasn’t supposed to have desires of her own but she was too aroused to care, he could have her on this desk if he asked it of her.

The Commander flashed a dangerous smirk as he dipped his body. His chiseled arms wrapped around her stocking covered thighs and Amie yelped as she was picked up and draped over his shoulder. He lifted her as if she weighed little more than a doll, and gripped a firm hold of her plump arse.

“Mmmn,” She moaned wantonly as Cullen ran his finger over the gusset of her damp silk panties. 

“You are  _ soaked _ for me.” He chuckled and repeated the action delighting at the way she wriggled on his shoulder. “I knew it,” he said, sounding pleased with himself. 

For a brief moment Amie feared that he would carry across the battlements in her present state. She didn't actually know where the Commander slept. But then she felt the odd sensation of being jostled upwards as the barbarian of a man climbed up a ladder. 

Once ascended in a few large strides Amie found herself deposited in the centre of a large comfortable bed. It was cooler but brighter up here and a small shiver shook her body and made her nipples peak. 

She soon saw why, a large skylight allowed light and a breeze to stream into the loft bedchamber. Ignoring the unusual sleeping arrangement Amie gazed upwards at the moon-lit adonis standing above her, watching intently as he stripped away his breeches and was finally bared. 

He was perfectly proportioned, lightly tanned and all lean muscle. Hardened and honed from years of wearing heavy armor and sword play. His cock, already half-hard despite his release a few minutes ago, was thick and appealing. As she studied him he did the same to her, his eyes raking over her body, noting how her chest heaved with anticipation and how she licked her lips in invitation. With a seductive growl he prowled over her body, caging her beneath him on the bed. His muscled thigh pressed into her apex and Amie sighed happily at the return of delicious friction.

No more needed to be said and he claimed her lips once more. If she hadn’t already been laying down Amie was sure she would have swooned under such an onslaught. Everything about the kiss, about him and his lavish attentions upon her was an intoxicating paradox.

Breathless she moaned as he began to trail kisses down her throat, pausing to lick at the hollow of her collarbone and graze his teeth over the sensitive skin.

Amie’s hips bucked up against his thigh at the action and she felt rather than heard the approving rumble in his chest.

“Patience.” He ordered sternly, “I want to sample every part of you.”

_ Such filthy words _ Amie thought as her eyes slid shut and body stilled obediently. His calloused hands now massaged her chest and “MAKER!” She cried as his mouth latched onto an erect nipple.

Amie writhed beneath him, her chest thrusting up to try and chase the sumptuous sensation of his lips and latching tongue. The whole time she felt the slow, tempting grind of his body against hers, his hardening cock nudging at her thigh while she rode his muscular leg through her panties. He switched to the other breast and suckled her nipple till Amie was feverish from the stimulation.

After what felt like hours of sublime torture he turned his attention southwards. Kissing over the softness of her stomach, untying the ribbons that held her stockings to her belt and ghosting over her sensitive groin.

“Commander!” She gasped as he nuzzled at the apex of her thighs, using his teeth to mouth and bite her through her negligee.

“I find myself eager to taste you.” He said and with a confident swoop pulled her underwear down her long legs, the stockings and lace suspender now her only clothing.

Amie was shivering again but this time from coiling and swelling apprehension as his strong hands further pried her legs apart and draped them over his broad shoulders.

Amie’s spine arched at the electric sensation that was his hot, wet tongue as he lapped at her seam. His stubble and the plush softness of his lips provided a contrast of feeling that had her body quaking within moments, while the vice like grip of his hands kept her pinned and controlled while he feasted upon her.

He took long loving strokes from her slit up to her pearl, pausing to nibble and worry her most sensitive bundle of nerves. Amie gasped, praised and begged for more. Her pleasure was building quickly and the sheets beneath her were gripped with white knuckles.

_ He is so good. _ She thought, opening her eyes to look down at her lover, his eyes closed in rapt concentration as he worked her to the precipice.

It had been years since anyone had taken the time to please her and longer still since anyone had used their mouth in this way. Her hands found his hair and mussed up the perfect style. And still he was relentless in his pursuit of her pleasure.

Her gasps and moans became more frequent and louder with each agonizing pleasured second. Till with a cry of ecstasy her orgasm crashed upon her.

  
  


\---

Her cries were like the sweetest music. 

He felt her body tremble and quiver as he brought her to what he hoped was as pleasurable end. She shuddered, her body bent like a bow before falling limp in the wake of his sexual prowess. Cullen had awoken a long dormant sense of pride and feeling pleased with himself he sat back on his heels to look over her naked, sated body.

He had thought her beautiful before but now with her skin flushed, hair wild and free and lips parted in an expression of utter bliss...  _ She is divine _ , he conceded. A painting of feminie lust and beauty and he had found such pleasure in pleasing her, that now his cock was once again proudly erect and demanding attention.

“Commander,” she sighed as her eyelids fluttered open. Her lips tilting up with a sultry smile as she eyed his primed and hard arousal.

_ Commander _ , she said. 

_ Commander, _ she had called during the throes of passion. Always the Commander and never his name. Unbidden he found the distinction somewhat painful. Her body couldn't fake her desire and he was flattered that she had chosen him over her other suitors for the evening, but real attraction, real affection he would never get that from her. Bull had suggested he work through his tension and that was exactly what he now intended to do.

“On your knees,” he growled. Irritated that for a brief moment amidst the tangle of limbs and bodies he had forgotten their places as Commander and Courtesan.  _ She is a service, nothing more.  _

She rolled over on his crimson sheets and just as he had requested rose to her hands and knees.  _ Pert and perfect, _ Cullen thought. The sight of her shapely ass and glistening pink folds, bared and beautiful but for her lacy stocking to be so tempting.

She looked back over her shoulder at him, a coy little sweeping of her lashes made him groan and he was so bewitched he almost drove his face back between her cheeks to feed on her nectar again. His cock throbbed angrily at the neglect and so steadying himself on his knees he slid forward, bringing the swollen tip of his member to her entrance. Amie’s eyes slipped closed as he stroked up and down her soaked slit, coating himself in her slick. Till slowly and indulgently he pierced her core. Revelling in each little whimper she gave as inch by torturous inch he was sheathed inside her tight cunt. Almost at the hilt he surged forwards, too eager to fill her and feel her hot walls contract around him. He groaned at the little pained gasp she gave as her body struggled to accommodate his solid girth. 

He looked down to where they were joined and pulled back as slowly as he had entered her. Each ridge and vein on his length was highlighted from the sheen of her arousal but before he could push forwards to return to her welcoming heat something unexpected happened.

Tilting her pelvis just so Amie rocked back onto him. Cullen hissed as he was once again embraced by her body. Her pelvis gyrated hypnotically as she repeated the slow withdrawal and fast penetration again and then again.

Cullen’s rough hands explored her silk covered thighs, gripped firmly the plump flesh of her cheeks and even circled the tight ring of her asshole. He closed his eyes and threw his head back as he allowed her to work his length with her sinful movements. It felt decadent, indulgent even to be holding steady while she fucked herself on his hard shaft.  _ The best sex of my life _ he admitted silently and it was all because of her, her flexing body and magnificent cunt. Over and over she bounced on his cock till her arms started to shake and her pace became irregular. 

Cullen was not selfish, he reached forward and cupped her gingerly, pleased when she gave a broken keen of encouragement as his fingers played with her clit.

A few seconds more and he felt her pulsing walls contract about him as her body trembled.

He regretted that he couldn't see her face as she came apart around his cock. Her arms crumbled beneath her and she fell forward, breathless and beautiful.

Cullen discovered very quickly that the new angle she now afforded him was sin. And she lay there helpless as he fucked her deeply, relishing the noise of their bodies colliding with each rampant rut. Each hard thrust slammed into her tight heat, each little mewl of hers was met with a lustful growl of his own. He leaned forward and covered her, his hands pinning hers into place as he took his pleasure from her willing body. 

His release was transcendent. It may have only been seconds, but it felt like an age as wave upon wave of white hot pleasure coursed through his veins. His seed spilled deeply inside her quivering channel, her body milking him till the last and he collapsed beside her spent and sated.

\---

Amie slid from the bed, reattached her stockings and located her panties. The rest of her clothes were still in his office and she could dress there before retiring to her own chamber. With an affectionate smile she brushed back the sleep disheveled curls of the man who had brought her such unexpected delights. He murmured something intelligible in his sleep and she had to stifle a giggle. He looked so much younger and free of cares when he slept. It was a privilege to see him so unguarded. 

The Commander, _Cullen_ she thought fondly. He had been the best lover she had had in a long time. As she returned to her own room and slipped between her pristine sheets she knew the memories of tonight would keep her warm for many lonely nights to come. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh Cullen Rutherford. Shyness personified, till he snaps and plows you into the mattress. Lucky Amie 😂


	5. Self Study

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly more plot this time!   
> Don't worry, there's fruity stuff too.

The Gala had been a roaring success. 

The Inquisitor and her chosen companions had left Skyhold the next day riding a wave of popular opinion and new pledges of support. They were to go to the Exalted Plains. To try and stabilize the war torn region, although at Vivienne’s Salon Amie soon found out that there were other inducements.

“The Hedge Mage, Solas.  _ Demanded _ that she help look for a friend of his. I keep telling her that she will not win any favors if she carries on her affair so publicly but she won’t heed my advice. Amie darling couldn't you have words?”

The Courtesan was a peacemaker, a gentle force of kindness and coercion when needed and although she was happy to weigh in to the daily squabbles of the nobles, petite and spoiled as their disagreements could be. Although she was happy enough to speak truth to power when it was needed she would not interfere in matters of the heart. Not since she was serving here solely at the Inquisitors pleasure.

“While it is perhaps not the best political choice I can’t blame the Inquisitor for seeking companionship during these trying times. Solas no doubt reminds her of her clan and heritage and I would never presume to tell her who she could and could not fall in love with.”

Her reply, diplomatic as it was, soothed Vivienne’s irritation. 

“True. Well, we will see if anything comes from this promise of Gaspard’s. The Inquisition must be at the peace talks, it is essential we have a seat at the table if cooler heads are to prevail.”

Amie’s shoulders stiffened. Vivienne’s sympathetic hand on her knee was enough of an apology for the mention of the name, she wouldn't have wanted more attention drawn to her last disastrous placement.

In Skyhold life seemed to change very little depending on whether or not the Inquisitor was present. There were still swarms of visitors both high and low flocking to the rising star of the South. While she and the Iron Bull were somewhat open about their spying proclivities she couldn't help but wonder who among them had more mischievous or even malicious intentions. With her work in organizing little parlors, fetes and card games the nobles had less time to pester the Ambassador with their trivialities. And taking the occasional client, rarely more than two a month, kept the men folk in check and away from the kitchen staff where they could do harm with their spoiled and licentious carryings on.

However Amie’s pride and joy was when she taught at the school, which was now almost daily. There were formal tutors already installed for mathematics, literacy and the lay sisters lead the History and Chantry teachings. Amie therefore was given leave to teach the young students Geography, Foreign Languages and Etiquette.

It was a position she took most seriously and had so far taken the time to arrange guest speakers from the Mages Collective, the Anderfells, Tevinter and the University of Orlais.

She had been putting off requesting a speaker from the Army hoping, perhaps foolishly, that following their evening together the Commander may be a little more communicative with her. That he might approach her again, not for her favor, but just as a friend he could talk to and from that friendship she could ask a favor of her own.

He did not.

He hadn’t looked at her once since their evening over a month ago. Even when she gave her weekly report to the War Council about rumors and opinion among the courtiers he wouldn’t say a word to her, he didn’t even try to meet her eyes or feign anything but the most formal politeness.

Amie would have liked to have thought it a surprise, an unusual occurrence but it was not. She knew his type well.

_ He will feel humiliated _ , she thought in resignation. The noble Commander had allowed himself the moment of weakness, a moment of natural and wonderful copulation and now no doubt prostrated himself in front of Andraste and quite possibly her Herald for forgiveness.

_ This is foolish _ , she thought.  _ My students shouldn’t be denied an education just because I'm feeling slighted _ . Sighing, she neatly wrote out the request for Mother Gisele to sign later in the day. It wouldn't be the first time she had felt ‘used’ and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Amie would rally her spirits. She would be professional. She would keep her recollection of the night in his arms safely locked away for her private reflections. Nothing more than a pleasant memory to eventually fade and be forgotten.

“Maker above the time!” She exclaimed as she noticed the dipping sunlight. Thankfully Dorian, who she was scheduled to meet in the Library would forgive her for being fashionably late. So despite the growing hour she still took the time to change out of her plain teaching clothes and dress as befit her station. 

* * *

Her ‘lessons’ with Dorian were a near weekly occurrence. At first the occasions were borne out of Amie’s desire to improve her Tevene which Dorian delighted in as she was, apart from an old Master of his who was currently serving the Mages collective, one of the only people in Skyhold who could speak his native tongue. Language lessons had turned into a book club, then had further descended into Wine Tasting, and now when they met it was for little more than idle gossip between good friends.

This evening was to be such an occurrence.

Still as she approached Dorian’s little nook she was surprised to see the Commander talking with a somewhat relaxed expression to the Altus. It was unusual to see him anywhere in the keep other than the War Room or his drafty tower.

“Commander.” She greeted warmly, determined to remain unaffected despite the silent lurch of her stomach. The ease in the Commander’s expression bled away the instant he beheld her, his eyes very noticeably raking up her body from tip to toe. 

“I-I was just leaving!” He stammered out before heading up the stairs to where Leliana held her office. Amie blinked to school her emotions and tried to ignore the sting of his hasty retreat.  _ Am I so repulsive _ ? She thought, feeling a little bitter at his active avoidance of her.

“You’ve scared him away!” Dorian bemoaned loudly from his chair.

Brushing aside her disappointment she gave her friend what she hoped was a cheering smile. “Well never-mind. Here, I have a well aged Rivaini red I have been simply itching to open.”

  
  


“So you see I simply had to leave Tevinter. Place was getting too stabby for my liking.” Dorian, her most eloquent acquaintance very nearly slurred his speech as he finished his fourth glass. Amie had drank at a slower pace, she enjoyed the buzz of alcohol but detested the headaches that could follow.

“Well the Inquisition are lucky to have you.” She said to her friend who stretched out languidly in his armchair.

“How did you come to be here, my beautiful bluebird?” Dorian asked, gesturing to her unusual wig and matching robe. It was layered like all her clothing but in a wrap style, it had been the simplest one for her to adorn while rushing to dress. “This is your first posting as a free agent yes?”

“Yes, my ten years working for the Guild were up, and to say I wanted a fresh start would be an understatement.”

“There’s a story there.”

“There is.” She dropped her voice a little. “My previous patron was Gaspard, yes that one.” She said at Dorian’s gasp of surprise. 

“He didn't want a lover or a companion, just someone to lash out at when the battles didn't go his way. Six months I went without a bed mate.” 

“You poor soul!"

“Indeed, Suffice to say I was so happy when my posting ended.” 

Dorian was thoughtful, “That's scandalous, did you not tell people of his mistreatment? What of your Guild?”

Amie shook her head, “Come now. Who would believe the word of a whore over a Grand Duke.”

Dorian’s sad nod showed that he did indeed.

“And as for the Guild you understand that if I ask for an intervention I owe them the time back from that placement. I didn't want to spend another half year working for them when I was so close to being free.”

Her friend was silent and pensive on the subject, she hadn’t wanted to dull his mood and quickly tried to turn the tide of their conversation.

“Anyway It’s all forgotten now. And if anyone asks I tell them I had to leave because we fell in love, romance is good for business.” 

Dorian held up his glass and they clinked them together, “Your optimism is a shining light.”

This time Amie drank deeply, drowning out the painful memories. What better way to display power than by abusing someone thought to be untouchable. She was considered one of the jewels of Orlais and of Celene's court but her time with a man quick to temper had dulled her brilliance. Her optimism, for all Dorian praised it, was absolutely forced. 

Fortunately her friend’s eagerness to talk filled the silence that could have left her despondent.

He asked with a twirl of his mustache, “But why choose the Inquisition? The only Courtesan working in Minrathous is nearing sixty, if you chose to relocate there you could be a very wealthy woman.”

She replied with a shrug, “There’s time yet for me to make money, some things are more important.”

“Ah yes, the cause. You’ve mentioned it before now, very  _ noble _ of you.” Dorian said with a wink and Amie ignored his implication. Although she supposed the Spymaster may know the whole truth no one, not even Josephine was privy to her personal history and it would remain that way.

“My sister told me about in her letters, the Inquisition or rather the rumors that it would be reformed. She intended to join herself.”

“Another Courtesan?”

“She was a Mage, you would have liked her I'm sure.”

“Was?”

“She died at the conclave. My service here seemed like a good way to honor her memory.”

“Ah.”

\---

Cullen should have moved away, but he stood on the floor above the chatting pair, listening in. He was mostly hidden in the shadows but his perch did afford him a small view of Amie as she talked animatedly.

She looked like a work of art, a priceless painting all blue, violet and gold as if the painter knew only the most expensive pigments would be suitable to capture her splendor. 

Typically he had time to compose himself before her entrance into the War Room and could ensure that his hidden desires remained buried deep inside. But not today, today he had made an utter fool of himself when she had greeted him unexpectedly.

The dress she had chosen to wear that evening presented her chest in a tantalizing V. It had instantly brought back memories of the passionate night they spent together. He had seen what lay beneath her fine clothes, had kissed and sucked at the very breasts that were now flushed from wine, the same ones he now eyed hungrily from the shadows.  _ I’m a sick man, _ he thought with rising self disgust.

He had already heard far too much of their private conversation but couldn't seem to drag his feet away. No wonder Leliana had chosen this tower. Sound traveled up without flowing down. 

“Here's to new beginnings and breaking that dry spell of yours.”

Dorian said with a cheer and the pair toasted below him.

When he next spoke it was in a tone Cullen knew all too well from their teasing chess games. “Speaking of curing your chastity, a little birdie tells me your chosen client for  _ that _ arduous task was none other than our beloved Fereldan Commander. Care to comment?”

Cullen’s face flushed as crimson as his coat.

“Does this little bird of yours happen to have impressive chest hair?” Amie asked archly.

Undeterred Dorian pressed on “You simply must tell me how you did it. That man is the very definition of repressed Templar.”

Amie, far more cool under scrutiny then he could ever hope to be sidestepped his question beautifully. “He’s an ex-Templar and a Courtesan doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“So you admit you kissed him?”

He heard her laugh off the suggestion and Dorian's frustrated grumble.

“You’ll get nothing from me!” She exclaimed.

“Well speak in hypotheticals then. I need to know what kind of lover our dashing Commander is.”

Amie took a sip of her wine “Assuming I had taken the Commander as a client, which I shall neither confirm or deny, I still wouldn’t know what kind of lover he was.”

Dorian leaned forward eager and ready to be scandalized. “How so? Did he prefer to watch, oh that naughty man. It’s always the quiet ones.”

Amie giggled. “No no! It’s simple really men don’t  _ make love _ to Courtesan’s, they fuck them.”

That was scathing. 

Cullen almost would have preferred it if she had chosen to brag about his prowess.  _ His prowess _ he silently scoffed at himself. He may have pleased her, there were certain tells of her body that couldn't be faked, but he was hardly a gracious lover and had received far more pleasure than he had given in return.

_ They fuck them _ . The Courtesan, no Amie, had been treated cruelly before him. Had gone months without proper care, attention and he. He...

Andraste forgive him, but he was so ashamed now about how he had asked her to turn round. How he had rutted into her like an animal when she was the very pinnacle of grace and manners. _ Maker _ the things he had said, the way he had covered and pinned her and, as she herself had so adequately described it, ‘fucked’ her.

“Commander?”

Cullen jumped at the sudden interruption “I wasn’t spying!”

Leliana arched a brow at his statement.

“Definitely not spying. I was just waiting for you. Your assistant said you were just outside releasing some birds. Which is why I was waiting. Here… Maker’s Breath.”

The spymaster slid next to him and peered down over the railing at the talking pair, wholly oblivious to their silent observers despite his outburst.

“Yes well, that got me a caning so severe I couldn't sit down for two days.” Amie said jovially.

“In Tevinter we call that foreplay.” Dorian drolled.

“And that’s why Bull likes you.”

“Oh hush!”

Leliana stepped away and bid him to follow her towards her desk. “For what it’s worth I think it’s a good thing.” She said, leadingly.

“I don’t know what you are referring to.” Cullen said, studying his feet.

Leliana gave a small unseen smile. “You have been less grumpy.”

“I am not grumpy!” Cullen said a little petulantly, aware of just how childish he sounded as he did.

“Yes, that's what I said. You haven’t been grumpy since the Gala, I can’t imagine why.”

Cullen huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you have any more unfounded observations for me or perhaps some actual news?”

“Yes, the Inquisitor returns tomorrow.”

Oddly enough news of the Heralds impending arrival did not elicit the same excitement that it used to.

“Was her mission a success?” He asked routinely rather than from actual interest.

“Yes, although I understand from her scouts that Solas no longer travels with her.”

“Oh?” Now  _ that _ was interesting.

  
  


* * *

The Herald was more than a little out of spirits upon her return. Normally the very embodiment of calm, cool leadership she was unusually short and snappy with all of her inner circle.

At the Advisors meeting she interrogated Leliana about the location of Solas, whether or not he was heading back their way and how soon they could reasonably expect to locate him.

Sera especially seemed to have bore the brunt of her wrath after she had made a flippant  comment about the couple only being concerned about ‘Elven Glory’ and not about the plight or real people. 

The whole affair cast a dull gloom over the Keep which Amie and Josephine valiantly tried to chase away with a little archery tourney and theater evening. The Inquisitor could then sit on her throne and brood silently without providing more fodder for the gossiping courtiers. He didn’t care for those pursuits but it was a welcome distraction when Dorian sought him out for a game of chess. 

Cullen’s night with the Courtesan had certainly been of use in restoring his confidence. He saw through his friends cheating and dodged loaded questions about his unusually cocksure attitude.  _ “You look like the cat that got the cream Commander. Why are you so pleased with yourself?” _ Amie had kept his secret and he wouldn't betray her confidence in turn, even to a mutual friend.

And when Filaur’el interrupted their game he had even been bold enough to ask her if she cared for a game.

She said yes and so they were alone together, only the second time since their arrival in Skyhold. The first being when he had told her of his attempt to overcome his Lyrium addiction and although she seemed a little distracted, looking over towards the entrance of the garden she was on the whole an encouraging and skilled opponent. 

They played, they talked about their families, they flirted. It was a pleasant afternoon that reminded him of their time in Haven, before the title of Inquisitor weighed her down, before she chose another.

“We should spend more time together.”

Cullen looked and felt confused. 

“What about Solas?” He cursed his question the moment he asked it. It felt wonderful to have her attention again but apparently he was determined to ruin this positive step towards the relationship he so craved. 

“What about him?” She said stiffly. As if she hadn’t been very openly soliciting his companionship, as if their blossoming relationship hadn’t been the talk of the keep these past months.

“I assumed-”

“He isn’t here. You are.” She shrugged.

His brow furrowed, “I suppose… and I would like that.”

“Me too.” She said. 

While any other time he may have found it to be an endearing slip of the tongue he couldn't shake the small seed of discomfort he felt. He should be jumping for joy, surely her request meant that his attraction wasn’t hopeless after all. Had he and everyone else-misinterpreted their relationship? Whatever the reason for her sudden renewed interest in him he couldn't dwell too much longer on her invitation. Although his analytical mind craved to dissect every little word and gesture, he had been asked by the Reverend Mother to speak at the Chantry run school today. He opened the door, barely mindful of his surroundings.

She was here. 

Not the Herald, she was already forgotten. He had been trying so hard to avoid her and more accurately avoid the lust filled thoughts that crippled him in her presence, but there was no running away from her this time.

“Jacque sit down if you please. Maisie that is not for eating. Mon Dieu you are an incorrigible bunch today.” Amie said as she wrangled a dozen young children into a semi-circle on the floor. She was wearing a simple grey-plaid skirt and white shirt, her hair free of the usual colorful wigs was loosely tied back from her face with a ribbon. The brunette waves otherwise cascading freely down her back. Cullen loved her hair, loved how it had felt between his fingers, loved how it fanned out behind her when he had laid her on his bed, loved how she had nuzzled into his hand when -  _ I should announce myself _ , he thought. “I - I,” he said. 

His entrance was finally noted. “Oh Commander you are right on time!” She said, sounding cheerful and a little relieved at his arrival.

Cullen cleared his throat to stop his vocal cords seizing up at her welcoming smile. “Lady Amie, you are the teacher? I was not aware.”

“Of a few classes, yes.” The tilt of her head spoke volumes. _Don’t make this into a problem,_ _please. Not in front of the children_ , she seemed to say. And Cullen, silently chastised by her once again, played his part as the Inquisitions General and school teacher for the next two hours.

\---

“Thank you for your time today Commander.” Amie was sincere. He was a natural with children it seemed. Whether they were imposed into silence by his presence or his tales she couldn't be sure. But either way it was the quietest and most interesting couple of hours she had ever had in the classroom.

“It’s no trouble. I was always grateful for my Chantry education and theirs shouldn't be put on hold just because we are at war.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” Amie echoed his sentiment, expecting him to finish with the pleasantries now the last child had filed from the room. 

“Did the Chantry provide your schooling also?” He asked with what sounded like genuine interest, why he was now feeling sociable she couldn’t fathom.

“Ah, no. I had tutors from a young age.”

“With the Guild?”

“Mmmhmm.” She deflected, it wasn’t exactly a lie. Moving away to avoid more scrutiny she began to pick up hastily strewn parchments and place them away. 

“Here let me help you with that.” He said and too joined in tidying the room. Amie didn't stop him, they finished in no time at all, but she was extremely confused by his behavior. Did he think she was blind to the way he had been ignoring her? Only last week he had all but ran away from her in the Library.  _ Kindness above all, _ she remembered, clamping down on her irritation just as he spoke up again.

“I-it’s good to see you.” He said, meeting her eyes for the first time in a month. 

“It’s good to see you too.” She replied honestly. And then she remembered why he was in a good mood. New rumors were swirling that the Inquisitor and her esteemed Commander were becoming closer. Of chess games in the Garden and lingering glances in hallways. Amie was pleased for him, but not above taking a small jab at his expense, especially after his frankly uncouth behavior towards her.

“How is your  _ Elven _ coming along?” She asked innocently enough, her tiny smirk betraying her real meaning.

“Ah-” he blushed too easily.

Amie rejoiced in his discomfort. “Slacking off I see? Perseverance is the key Commander, keep at it. Although I’m confident you have the oral skills necessary to succeed.” 

She had to stifle her giggle as he muttered Maker’s Breath and rubbed at the back of his neck.

Oh but she did have fun with him. It was a shame he wasn’t interested in her.  _ The Herald is a lucky woman, _ she thought. “Well, I should prepare the school room for tomorrow and I’m sure you have work to be getting on with?”

“Yes.” He said, though he made no effort to move. 

“Yes. I should go, unless-” She saw him gulp as he appraised her, unable to ask the question that was clearly on his tongue. Amie moved towards him and placed her hands on his chest plate, his breath hitched as she did so. She was tall enough to lean up and bring their bodies close, his scent was still as pleasant as their night together but it didn’t deter her.

Quietly she whispered into his ear. “Good day Commander.”

Then with a firm shove he stumbled back two paces, over the threshold and she closed the door decisively. She spun and placed her back firmly against the worn wood, her heart beating rapidly.

_ Unless? _ she thought with confusion.  _ What did he mean by saying that and staring at me like a man starved.  _ She knew that look all too well but kept to her rules. The Commander, as tempting as he was, was in love with Inquisitor. 

And Amie would not be toyed with.

\----

A good day turned into a not so good night.

As the moon had risen so had Cullen’s temperature, an unwelcome side effect from his Lyrium withdrawals. He had long given up on trying to complete more work and instead had retreated to his cool loft where he could feel the chill against his nude over-heated skin.

Oddly enough for all his embarrassment around attractive women Cullen wasn’t shy about his body. Years in barracks as a Templar had taught him that and he and his men regularly trained shirtless.

_ Speaking of attractive women _ , he groaned in shame at his behavior today around Amie.

Although he wasn’t usually one to favor one body type over another he could confess that Amie’s supple curves balanced out with her narrow waist and thin limbs  _ did _ something to him.  _ This _ was why he had to avoid her at all costs. He had only just agreed to spend more time with the Inquisitor, although he still wasn’t sure whether that was in a friendly or romantic capacity. He should not, could not be falling for someone else now Filaur’el had shown an interest in him again. No matter how kind, patient and admirable he found her.  _ She teaches the children, no. No _ . He had to stop thinking about the Courtesan.

Amie herself had said he should preserve in his pursuit of the Inquisitor, the twinkle in her eye was too marked to be missed. And so he would, learning her language was a step on that path.

He picked up the Elvhen phrasebook from his nightstand, he hadn’t opened it since that day she came to his office. But he remembered the page  _ Ar lath ma, vhenan.  _ Amie’s voice, sweet and musical echoed in his mind.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.” He repeated her silent instruction remembering how he had felt happy and proud of her encouraging smiles and praise. How, just like her clothes today, the wide leather belt cinched tight over her waist and amplified her curves. And how as she had lent over his desk her loose fitting shirt had revealed the swell of her breasts to his admiring gaze.

Cullen carelessly discarded the book on the floor as images of Amie fueled his arousal. It was burning hotter even than his fever and wouldn't be ignored. His eyes slipped closed as he took hold of his hardening length and gave a few slow strokes as he thought again on her language lesson.

Her lips, full and carmine had demonstrated the words with deliberate slowness. Allowing him to admire how prettily her mouth formed little Oh’s and Ah’s, how her tongue would peak out, tantalizing him. He had thought that maybe that was how her pretty lips would look in the throes of passion, but it hadn’t even come close. Cullen had seen for himself how exquisitely her face contorted with pleasure during their sinful evening. He groaned from the memory of her on her knees, her mouth stuffed full of his cock.

His hand alone wasn’t enough to do justice to his reflections. He wanted to simulate her wetness, wanted to mimic the warm tight heat of her body as she milked his length. Needily he rummaged around in his bedside table for the small vial of oil he kept to hand for such occasions and gasped when it, along with a long black ribbon fell into his palm.

It was hers. He had picked it up the morning after from his office floor. A draft had blown it into one of the small grooves between the boards. He had been intending to give it back at first. But this embarrassment about the way he had treated her and then his uncontrollable urges had kept him from doing so. Wrapping the black silk across his knuckles he grasped hold of his shaft once more. The droplets of oil had quickly warmed on his palm and with a slick fist he now worked his length.

“Amie,” he moaned as more images flooded his mind, all carnal and all filled with longing.

He imagined he could have bent her over the chess table, the pieces scattering as he drove into her willing body. Or perhaps in the classroom, he could sit on the desk while she, always eager to please would take him into her mouth again. Suck and lick choke on his cock till he spilled down her graceful throat.

“Fuck.” He uttered, close to spilling from that imagery alone.

But it wasn’t enough, he wanted more than anything to see her shatter beneath him. He would never forgive himself for not bedding her properly when he had the chance. Why had he fucked and not gently made love to her as she deserved?  _ Sweet, kind, soft Amie.  _

He knew why, it had been too long and he was ravenous and touch starved.  _ When I have her again _ …He growled at himself as his hips bucked. That would never happen, and even if he did he couldn’t promise to himself that he would be gentle. Not when his whole being demanded he find her. Find her, fill her, breed her.

Moaning in agonized frustration he rolled onto his stomach. He couldn’t have her again, he couldn’t be trusted to bed her in the manner she deserved. But he would at least allow his depraved mind to imagine it.

Cullen groaned and gripped the bed sheets beneath him, the ribbon was still wrapped tightly across his hands as he started to roll his hips. If he closed his eyes he could still picture her soft skin and smooth curves. Still envisage the rise and fall of her chest as she panted after he had licked her to her climax.

His buttocks flexed as he rocked and thrust into the mattress, his breath coming in pants at the seductive friction the action caused. If he had bedded her properly he would have been able to see her breasts bounce with each new penetration, he would have seen her flush deepen and her lips part as she moaned.

He now rutted feverishly into the bed and his slicked cock ground into the bunched sheets. She would writhe and wriggle beneath his body, would beg for more and then with a keening cry she would come apart around him. And Cullen would see it all intimately and lovingly. He would hold her close as she shuddered and shouted his name and he, coaxed by the clamping down of her inner walls and her sweet cries would follow her into the abyss.

Cullen shouted her name as his orgasm crashed into him. White sticky rivulets shooting from his iron length and soaking the sheets beneath him. Panting, he held still as his sanity returned to him. Then rolled away from the mess he had caused with a disappointed grimace on his face and a sad sigh.

“Amie.” He whispered in the quiet of his lonely loft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Dorian so eloquently put it "that naughty man. It’s always the quiet ones."


	6. Calisthenics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Rough Sex

_Had I ever stood a chance?_ Cullen thought with growing bitterness as he oversaw Solas’ return to the keep from his tower window. The Elven pair were cordial as they greeted each other. But the soft smiles they exchanged and the pinkening of the Herald’s cheeks spoke volumes. It hurt, despite its inevitability. As they retreated to the rotunda Cullen returned to his desk, his fists balled by his sides as he sought to ride out the emotions now swirling inside him.

 _To work_. He chided himself. He may not be her lover but he was still her Commander and he would not let his personal feelings get in the way of his professional duty.

Paperwork was his first port in the storm. He spent countless nights burying himself in the trail of correspondence that the Inquisitor had brought back from the Emerald graves. Finding Samson and putting a stop to the madness of his once Brothers-in-arms had to be his priority and for a few days it brought him solace from his frustrations.

At least till the early hours of the morning. When his eyes were aching from reading and his head thumping in pain, only then could confess that his diligence was doing little to really improve his mood. And when alone and quiet he could reconcile that he had felt used. When the Herald had shown a renewed interest in him and despite his caution, he had foolishly allowed his heart to hope for more. 

He had been used before. First by the blood Mages in Kinloch, his mind and body sport for their cruel torture. Then again in Kirkwall, used by his leader, a woman he trusted to further her zealotry and suppression of the mages. Although Filaur’el and her toying with his feelings were not nearly of the same severity as those earlier transgressions the echoes of it itched and peeled at his old wounds.

Even Rylen, one of his closest friends and second in command, had stopped teasing him and told him seriously that he needed to work through whatever was riling him. _“You’re scaring the recruits half to death, and we need them alive if we are to win this war.”_

That made him at least act less irritable in his men’s presence. They didn’t deserve to know how conflicted he truly was and Cullen could admit that he was not at all in a good state of mind. He felt as though he was working towards a redemption that he wasn’t certain he would ever deserve. He was working to atone for the crimes of centuries of mistakes borne of the Order he once cherished. Working to build an army from nothing when he was sure there must be hundreds of other better qualified men for the position. Was working, working, always working.

He quite honestly considered that only time in the past months he had felt any peace, confidence and self-assuredness about his path was the time he had spent with the Courtesan. She may not realize it but she and their night together had become a balm to his soul. Amie, kind, unassuming, encouraging and who he had all but ignored since. _It had to be done,_ he thought sadly. The day he had come across her teaching had shown him that. Simply being in her presence rendered him a simpleton. His mind was full of her, his body brimming with lust and in that state there was no room for anyone else, even the Herald. And so like a coward he had hidden from her. As he now hid from his problems beneath a never ending mountain of correspondence, requisitions and referrals.

His breakthrough, when it came, was a wholesome and nurturing spark. During the War Council the very next day he almost excitedly exclaimed that Samson’s trail led to a mine in the Emprise Du Lyon.

“I recommend that the Inquisitor head there at once. Not only will it give us the chance to assess the humanitarian crisis developing but it may lead us to Corypheus’ general.”

Josephine nodded and began to write out the instruction while adding “An excellent idea, after our work already in the plains I'm sure this next step will buy us enough influence to secure an invitation to the peace talks.”

Filaur’el coughed gently. She was normally somewhat disinterested in the War Meetings so her interruption raised the eyebrows of all her advisors. “I’m sorry Commander but I am planning to return to the Emerald Graves next. There are some interesting ruins that Solas wants to investigate.”

Cullen’s jaw clenched and he spoke in a controlled, if clipped tone. “Inquisitor, I must advise against delay. This lead is time critical, people’s lives are at stake.” Filaur’el folded her arms. “Commander I see no reason for the urgency and think perhaps you are letting your personal feelings regarding Samson cloud your judgement.” She said coolly.

“Me?” Cullen uncharacteristically snapped, furious at her callousness. “The ruins that have no doubt stood for ages will still be there after all this is over, yet you are prioritizing finding out more about your people’s history than helping the ones who are living.” He saw Josephine wince out of the corner of his eye, but the fact she didn’t interrupt him was evidence enough that despite his blunt delivery she agreed with his assessment. Still Filaur’el said nothing although her face now bore a slight scowl. The Inquisitor was not used to being spoken to in such a manner, especially by one who used to show her nothing but deference.

“Red Lyrium doesn't just affect Templars. It corrupts the land, the wildlife, everything you say you hold sacred.” Cullen slammed his hands in exasperation on the War Table, the little markers wobbling from the vibrations it caused. “Forgive me for speaking plainly Inquisitor, but if you don’t act now who knows how many lives could be lost.” His plea was emotional rather than rational and it seemed to soften her a little. She looked at him, then the kind but pleading eyes of Josephine and the stern undecipherable countenance of Leliana and not hearing any contradictions at last spoke.

“I shall go to Emprise _after_ I have investigated the Graves.” Cullen opened his mouth to protest but she raised her hand. “It will only add a few days onto the journey and that is the end of it. And if you don’t like my decisions you shouldn’t have named me Inquisitor in the first place. Let me be clear that although I seek to aid all people in these dark times I will _always_ place the Interests of the Dalish above any others.”

“Yes Inquisitor.” Josephine had the diplomacy to mumble as Filaur’el swept from the room.

Whatever lingering hurt and disappointment Cullen had been nursing quickly bubbled up into effervescent anger. For he, who had given his whole life to service, who valued the Inquisitions cause above all else… how could he see it as anything other than a selfish act.

And adding to all of the internal self loathing, and doubts about his worthiness was the new crushing realization that to her he was ‘other’. It wouldn’t matter if he was fluent in Elven, if he studied and learned her histories. Even if Solas hadn’t returned he only ever would have been a stand in till a more suitable partner came along.

Cullen strode from the War Room as angry as a Bear. _I’ve been idle for too long_ he thought as he heard the familiar clash of metal on metal from the drills in the courtyard. What better way was there for him to expend all his anger, to channel all those disappointed feelings into something productive than by hitting something. Hard.

\---

Amie had been right to try and keep her distance from the beautiful Commander.

She had been right to push him from her school room when it was clear from the way he had stammered over his words, his eyes trailing her around the room that he admired her. And the Maker knew she very much admired him. It would have been the work of a moment for her to flutter her lashes and have encouraged him back into her arms. But she did not, because deep down she knew that he didn't want her. Not really. She was a service, nothing more. One he made use of to wile away his lonely night after being looked over again. 

And so Amie had kept away from him as he had kept away from her. _The right thing to do_ she remembered. Despite the warming memory of his talented tongue and the pleasant stretch she felt when he filled her. Despite how voracious and generous a lover he had been, the most enjoyable night’s work she had had in a long time.

So she was happy when for a little while he and the Inquisitor seemed to be getting closer. It gave her sacrifice of his time and longing looks a noble bearing. She would never want to stand in the way of true love and had never been prone to jealousy. It wasn’t long before a betting pool was circulating among the nobility, courtesy of one gossiping Dwarf, about just when the two might make their relationship public. Amie was resigned to be happy for them from a distance and to keep any inappropriate thoughts about the Commander firmly between herself and Andraste.

Then Solas had returned. And all surety of her course of action was erased as day by day Skyhold saw less of the Commander. When Amie did see him he looked so tired, with dark bags under his eyes, his usually neatly kept stubble now grown in length. He was still as attractive as ever in the eyes of Ladies, but Amie was more concerned about the man underneath. She cared for him despite his somewhat unpolished manners and at times gruff demeanor. He had shown a genuine interest in her, once he overcame his prejudice and one couldn't help but have an interest in him in turn. _To be disappointed in love_ she sighed, it was a trying thing and he needed his friends now more than ever. 

Amie had discrete words with Rylen who promised to speak to him and she hoped that would be enough. Though she would gladly offer him her body as comfort that had to remain a last resort. At least till she could trust herself to not, in the honesty of her confessional prayers, long for more...

Of course Amie was the first to hear of the Commander’s impromptu sparring session and attributed it, hopefully, to a change in spirits brought about by Rylen’s intervention. She herself had taken great pains to ensure she was friendly with almost all of the other servants and so consequently when the young page delivered her the news she was only too happy to pass that information on.

“Madames. I do believe our esteemed Commander is running the drills himself this afternoon. It has been a while since we have observed and the summer air is so warm today. Would any of you care to join me?”

With a flutter of fans and ruffling of fine silks and velvets half the nobility followed her to the courtyard. The more eager observers followed her to the wooden posted ringside. After all, shoes could be cleaned and a little mud along your hem was well worth it if one got to observe the Commander up close.

The ladies and men around her chirruped in excitement when they saw the training battle unveiling and Amie herself was far from immune to _his_ charms. The Commander, had shed his cape, had shed his armor and much to the crowds delight now divested himself of his shirt. One young lady beside her dramatically fainted away at the sight but Amie’s mask was fixed with an amused yet disinterested smile. No one could know how she shifted beneath her spring green skirt as the first tendrils of arousal tingled along her spine. She was so glad she had chosen to not wear a wig today as she was suddenly much, much too hot. 

The Commander prowled about the ring like a caged animal. Striking viciously at the men that came within range as even as he ordered them attack him faster, harder, one after the other. As each soldier charged towards him with their swords raised he countered, deflected, sidestepped and overcame the assaults with apparent ease and grace. It almost looked like dancing.

“AGAIN!” He commanded when the men had all been bested once. And so they attacked again. And then again. His brow glistened with sweat as he parried blow after blow. Using the momentum of the clashing blades to spin and launch sweeping attacks at his foes. 

Of course she had heard stories of his prowess. About how, following the conclave explosion, he kept back the demon horde for three days till the Herald was recovered enough to seal the breach. How he rallied soldiers and Mages alike during the attack on Haven, crippling the enemy forces and securing the Inquisitions survival during what should have been a massacre.

Amie never gave a lot of credence to stories, she operated in a world where men loved to boast. But whoever had woven the tale of the powerful Lion of Fereldan, Commander of the Inquisition had certainly been truthful.

 _He is magnificent_ , she conceded. Her eyes fixed on his perfect form as he blocked what would have been a crushing overhead attack from a maul and, moving almost faster than she could see, deposited the wielder on the floor in a heap. His men were tiring under his relentless onslaught, even though they were one of a dozen taking it in turns to try their mettle against him.

Amie already knew he had a statuesque, sculpted body. Though she had had the chance to explore it a little by candlelight it was nothing compared to seeing it fully lit and working as it was intended. There was no doubt that his muscles were all hard earned and what she hadn’t observed before was the high number of silvered scars that accompanied the tantalizing dips and ridges. She couldn't help but remember how he had felt in her arms. All hard planes and tempting edges. Rippling and powerful as he moved over her. Unconsciously she had started to bite her lip.

“Enjoying the view Wigs?”

Amie centered herself and smiled pleasantly down at her new companion. “Master Tethras. I do wish you would call me something more appropriate.” She said gesturing to her unadorned brunette waves.

“Hey I did offer ‘Lady’ but you didn’t like that one, _remember_.” He replied with a verbal nudge that she studiously ignored and flicked her hair over her shoulders..

The Commander shouted in pain as a clumsy blow was delivered to his arm. Amie looked on with concern as she saw that a training blade, not properly blunted, had pierced his skin and now an oozing red trickle was beginning to pour down his arm.

He snarled through the pain and dispatched the now nervously shaking soldier with a telling ‘thump’ with the flat of his blade.

When the last man finally yielded the Commander shouted in triumph and the audience already feverish from the excitement cheered and hooted their applause. His answering roar was an angry guttural cry that to the crowd sounded like an expression of victory. But to Amie it sounded more like a cry of hurt and pain. “Commander.” She said sadly although no one could hear her over the deafening noise.

He didn’t seem to hear his riotous fans, he barely even saw them as he instructed his runner to take his armor away to be cleaned and dismissed his men. But a Courtesan saw all. 

“Oh Curly.” Varric beside her also sounded worried before he retreated inside. 

None of the cheering crowd who clapped went to congratulate him in person, none of his men seemed the slightest bit concerned about his injury. Only Amie her hand over her heart watched him stalk off to his tower, alone.

\---

Cullen had noticed Amie in the crowd. She looked beautiful dressed for the summer day in a bright green dress that accentuated her curves just so and in his distraction he had missed the incoming attack that had left his arm bloodied. _A novice mistake_ he thought, both as a soldier and a man. After his neglect of her he didn’t think she would ever approach him again, and should he ever be bold enough to again ask for her favor… _well I’ve burned that bridge_ he chastised himself angrily. 

His men knew after such a strenuous battle he wasn’t to be disturbed so he didn't rush to dress. Instead he took a bottle of white rum from his bookshelf, a small glass and also opened up a medicinal pack from his draw. He laid the whole on his desk and took a swig of the drink before starting to clean his wound. His irritation rose as he struggled with his left hand. Huffing with his clumsiness he didn't hear the knock, or the creak as his office door was opened and closed.

“That was an exceptional display.” The Courtesan’s voice was all sincerity and sweetness but Cullen was still too absorbed in his self flagellation to greet her arrival properly.

Instead he responded gruffly. “I’m glad I could entertain our guests.”

He took another swig of the strong white rum and poured a little over his bloodied arm. Hissing in pain as he did so.

“Here, let me help.” She said and stepped over to where he was perched on his desk. Cullen let her do as she bid and slipped his eyes closed while her gentle hands set to work. 

“You should be proud today.” Amie said as she cleaned his shallow cut with the softest of touches, patting it dry before starting to wrap the bandage. “You are quite honestly the best combatant I have ever seen. Your movements are graceful, precise. You wield your long sword as if it were a Rapier.” She added kindly, and sighed when he remained silent and brooding.

Despite her praise, despite the soothing aura she exuded Cullen was still angry. Was this to be his life now, no amount of sparring or battles able to pierce the festering pit of self loathing inside him. Nothing seemed able to quell his rage quite like Lyrium, perhaps it was long overdue he started taking it again. _My error today proved I am not at my best I should-_

As if sensing his raging thoughts Amie pulled the ends of the bandage a little too tight. The action caused him to grunt in discomfort but also brought him back into the room, his tower where he was alone with a woman he had sworn to avoid.

“I don’t need mothering.” he snarled and shrugged her gentle hands from his arm.

“No.” Her eyelashes swept up from her cheeks, her gaze firm and unafraid despite what he was certain must have been an imposing scowl from him. 

“What do you need, Commander?” 

How could he answer such a question? His brows furrowed and he tore his eyes away from her absorbing green eyes. He had his life, his God, a cause and his health on good days. There was nothing he truly needed but maybe that wasn’t what she was asking.

“Need and want are very different things.” He said diplomatically hoping that would be the end of it. He could smell her now, her scent that had long vanished from his bedsheets, the alluring mix long committed to memory that always stoked the embers of his arousal. If he did need anything it was for her to leave before he could no longer remain a gentleman.

“Very well, what do you want?” She asked with a tilt of her head.

Cullen saw the action, how it elongated her neck and drew his eyes downwards. He swallowed and looked away acutely aware of his stiffening length in his leathers. “To be left alone?” She guessed.

Still he remained silent, his mind fighting the desires of the heart.

“I will leave.” She said and in an instant his hand had gripped her arm.

The confidence that seemed to peak in her presence, the ability to ask, to confess without judgement bloomed in his veins.

“You truly want to know what I want?”

“Yes.” She said, her chest rising and falling a little quicker than before. 

_I can be honest with her_. “My blood is hot, I am angry, I am hard and I want to fuck.”

Amie’s lips parted as she exhaled, her cheeks flushing and she dropped her eyes to where he still had a firm grip of her arm. “And is there no one else you can turn to?” She asked quietly.

“I don’t know, perhaps.” He knew he had admirers but he wasn’t one for courtship. “But I don’t want them.” He urged.

She nodded in understanding stating “You want the Inquisitor.”

“Oddly enough no.” Cullen said suddenly and it felt liberating to finally admit it. It was the truth. Cullen was done chasing after Filaur’el and now had someone else firmly fixed as his prey. 

He stepped closer to her, his grip softening to a caress. “I want the Courtesan. Willing, sweet and prepared to do exactly what I ask without judgement.” Cullen stood as still as stone as she weighed his words. He now spoke softly and felt more at peace than he had done in weeks. “I entreat you for your favor...please.”

She gave a little hum of approval at his words and brought her hands up to explore his body. Lazily she dipped over the ridges and dips of his abs and he was content to let her touch him for as long as she desired, In that moment there wasn’t anything he wouldn't give her. The sensation of her fingers, cool against his overheated skin was soothing and arousing at the same time and his breath hitched as she traced the path of his body hair downwards, ghosting over his waistband and the hardening bulge beneath.

She leaned up, brought her lips to his ear and tugged at the lobe with her teeth, chasing the sting away with her tongue. Cullen gasped. He was coiled like a cobra, his whole body on edge and senses heightened as he awaited her response.

“Allow me to attend you.” She breathed and Cullen trembling with anticipation but needing to be certain forced her chin up to look at him.

“I can’t be gentle.” He said, begging it wouldn’t mean the end of her charity,

“You don’t need to be.” She replied, stroking her hand over his stubbled jaw, adding “And you never need to pretend with me.”

Cullen’s eyes slid shut as she brought their lips together. A sudden wave of acceptance and understanding flooded into him at the tender brush of skin.

“Thank you.” He sighed a soft moan of a thing, before the rage he had kept behind the delicate shell of an exterior finally cracked.

With a near ravenous intensity he now surged into her, crushing her body against his desk with a yelp and caging her within his arms. Maker but she felt like she was made for his arms.

He kissed her with the same ferocity he had shown on the battlefield. Her face tilted up as he licked into her mouth, the little moans she gave all traveled straight to his groin and his member was now fighting to be free of it’s constraints. He pulled back just enough to tug the laces of pants free, his cock hard and ready sprang forth. Amie made a pleased noise at the back of her throat and before he could entreat her to do otherwise she turned away and leaned forward over his desk.

Her hands pulled at her heavy skirts and Cullen watched with rapt fascination as long legs covered in peach silk stockings were exposed for him. She looked over her shoulder at him, her lashes dipped demurely and lips parted with a sultry plea. 

Cullen felt parched from the sight of her offering her body to him in such a primal manner.

“Commander.” She moaned with a little wiggle of her hips. Her lace panties looked like the most beautiful wrapping paper and he cupped her delicately, feeling the dampness of the fabric. “A-are you sure?” _Please be sure, I can’t stop now,_ he thought as he slipped one finger beneath her gusset, stroking her slit and spreading her pooled wetness.

She nodded, her long waves falling over her shoulders onto his desk “Take what you need.”

With such a command Cullen couldn’t wait another instant. There wasn’t time to undo her stockings and slide her panties down her legs. Instead he pulled the flimsy fabric to one side and lined up his swollen tip all to the sounds of Amie’s whimpered encouragements.

“P-please Commander. I want you inside me.” She mewled as he teased her folds apart, coating his shaft in her slick. _I want you inside me_ she had said and at those words a new red mist descended. This one not born of anger but instead pure carnal desire, it was thick like tar as it fogged and covered all other thoughts. There was nothing now but her.

Cullen nearly wept with joy as he hilted himself within her. He threw his head back as he savored the feeling of her sheath. It was more than just physical relief. It felt as if she was absolving him of his sins, taking away his pain and replacing it with white hot pleasure.

Before he started to move he crowded over her and with a gentle hand under her chin tilted her head back till her spine arched deeply. 

He claimed her lips then and while they were joined in two places he slowly withdrew. Retreating till only the tip of his cock remained inside. Then with a hard snap of his hips he filled her greedily, her little cries were muffled by his lips as he repeated the motion again, then again. 

Alternating between an exquisitely slow roll that built the anticipation before spearing that warm welcoming heat that already had him dizzy from desire. He drowned in her lips while his body took its fill. Moving almost on instinct and reveling in the wet pull of her walls as she milked his length.

Releasing her chin and lips his hands now found her curvaceous hips and he began to thrust into her with abandon. Keeping her still and pinned as he fucked her hard and fast over his desk. The swell of her ass bounced every time he rutted into her and Cullen found the action almost hypnotic. He was transfixed by the sight of his solid cock, glistening from her juices sliding in and out of her body, how her skin was pink from his bruising grip, and her whole body seemed to shudder as he took his fill. 

Amie was ever louder, her moans of pleasure filing the otherwise silence of the room and broken up only by the occasional grunt from him. “Commander, yes!” She whimpered as he stroked his hands along her sides till he found the edge of her bustier. Her back arched again as he gripped her bosom firmly and he tore blindly at the front of her dress. Groaning when his hands finally took a hold of her heavy breasts. His hands cupped and squeezed her till she keened, his teeth clamped onto her shoulder and he now raced towards his end.

Cullen growled in approval as her hand fell between her thighs and she drew small little circles over her still covered clit

“I’m so close.” She gasped as he continued to drive into her body mercilessly, not relenting even as she began to shudder in his arms.

“Come for me Amie.” Cullen ordered.

“COMMANDER!” She cried, one hand bent and holding onto his mussed curls, the other working her pearl and like that she came apart around him. Her body spasmed, walls clenched and Cullen’s hips stalled as he crashed into his own Orgasm.

It was a near Euphoric feeling of release and bliss as his heavy load filled her channel and as he came down he banded his arms around her, keeping her pressed tight close to him and holding onto the purity of their connection till he softened within her.

Amie shifted in his arms and settled her skirts, then tucked him back into his leathers.

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry that was rough-”

“Shh.” She said placing a finger over his lips. “You never need to apologize for your desires, they are a part of you. And I happen to like it a little rough.”

 _Acceptance again_ , Cullen felt a wave of emotion wash over him and he pulled Amie back into his embrace. “You are Maker sent.” He mumbled into her neck.

“Are we going back to ignoring each other again now?” She eventually asked.

“I hope not.” Cullen said, “but I’ll try to follow your rules. I will ask you for your favor properly next time.”

“Next time? Confident are we?” She replied with a blush on her cheeks, they both laughed and Cullen felt a lightness within him. There had to be a next time his whole being yearned for it.

“I do think you're exceptional Commander. And for what it’s worth...” Amie looked away and chewed her bottom lip in indecision.

“Yes?” Cullen urged.

Her smile was kind and unaffected “Don’t feel the need to change too much. You are a wonderful man and your sweetheart, whoever that may be should love you for you.”

“Amie -” he rasped.

Their goodbye kiss was slow and sensual and Cullen didn’t want it to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed my somewhat non-traditional desk sex.  
> Thanks again for reading, please do let me know your thoughts :)


	7. Performing Arts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sing it with me now Roxanneeee...
> 
> TW: Angry/rough sex. The soft stuff is coming I swear but our pair have some jealousy issues to work though first.

The Commander was true to his word. In the two weeks following their passionate encounter in his office he had stopped ignoring Amie. In fact he seemed to be taking great pains to make up for his earlier coldness. He had been attentive, asking her to the gardens to play chess and coming to give another lecture in her school room.

There were also new little glances, his golden eyes twinkling with meaning and hidden intent. Confident smirks and bold flirtations that left her burning with a need that often rendered her speechless. He would take any excuse to touch her hand, or her arm or on one occasion push a stray curl back from her pinkening cheek. Amie loved it all. She loved the long coiling strand of anticipation that wound between them. Loved the invisible tightening bonds that made him bolder and set her heart racing.  _ It won’t be long... one day soon, _ she consoled herself as she waited for the gratifying day he would ask for her favor once more.

These were the thoughts that kept her up at night. That her mind dwelled on when she was supposed to be sleeping. They invariably led to her whimpering quietly into a pillow as she brought herself to completion again to the thought of his hard body as he moved over and within her. 

Outside the little bubble of their dalliance the news from Orlais was cause for celebration. The Inquisitor and her party had liberated the famine stricken region of Emprise Du Lyon and with it struck a resounding blow against the Red Templars and their poisoned Lyrium trade. A banquet was planned for the following week to coincide with the Inquisitor's return. Amie recognized that time would soon tell how much of the Commander's fancy had just been a fleeting attraction when he was presented with the real object of his affections.

For now at least he stayed true in his pursuit of her. 

She assured him his attentions were not necessary but as the days passed she started to forget all about his love for the Herald. All about her rules and past hurts. There was a recurring flicker of hope that this time it could be different.  _ Don’t be naive, you are a Courtesan _ , she would chastise herself and yet she couldn't quite seem to extinguish the timid flame despite every effort.

And even if she was left disappointed Amie found she could still be happy. She was happy to see that the more time he spent with her the more confident he seemed to become. He was a far cry from the stammering nervous wreck who had first approached her. Whether the Inquisitor or some other Lady would one day be lucky enough to win his heart she could be confident that she had done her part in encouraging him to be a communicative and honest lover.

Today he was demonstrating his new skills to devastating effect as they conversed in the little Library nook. Amie had been waiting for Dorian and the Commander, just passing through, had taken the chance to corner her and whisper sultry words into her ear.

“Did you know that I can no longer work at my desk without becoming uncomfortably hard?” He murmured against her sensitive skin and she shivered.

“Is that so?” She replied, meeting his heated gaze but feigning innocence.

“Yes. You see every time I try all I hear are the echoes of your moans, all I can picture is your ripe sweet -”

“It’s nice to see you two getting along now.” Dorian said mischievously as he approached the corner and the pair sprang apart. Amie was skilled enough to maintain her composure, the Commander was less so and he wore an incriminating flush as the Altus fixed them with a knowing smirk. Mercifully if he had more to say he wisely kept his counsel to himself and instead began diffusing the palpable tension with an impromptu lecture on his new speaking crystal.

“I-I should go.” Her not so secret admirer stammered but before he could fully retreat Amie called out.

“Will I see you at the banquet this evening Commander?” 

Even from a distance she was sure his eyes darkened a small smirk tugging playfully at his lips.

“You shall,” he stated and then gave a small bow as he retreated down the stairs.

Amie’s heart thumped erratically in her chest. That was as good as a promise in her eyes. She would have to court other requests of course. It was her duty to be seen, to give men the enticing opportunity of taking her to bed, but there was no doubt in her mind about whose body she would be very happily pinned under this evening.

So that afternoon she dressed with more than usual care. Knowing the Commanders preference for hard and fast she decided to forgo her panties entirely, only her lace white stockings were worn beneath the liquid layers of tulle that adorned her. She accentuated with a coral lip, silver jewelry and of course her hollow crystal pendant.  _ I hope he likes it, _ she thought hopefully as she gave a little twirl in the mirror.

At the banquet she courted and danced and smiled and waited. She entertained and laughed and flirted and waited. She scanned the room with rising disappointment, made a vague allusion to Josephine who commented that “He hates these things and only comes if the Inquisitor is in attendance.” And still she waited.

The Inquisitor and her party had been delayed till the morning...and so the Commander never came. It was nearing midnight, she had received requests from six different men all properly and publicly and she had to accept one of them. _ Curse it, how could he. _

Miserably, she approached the door of Count de’Forso. She knocked with a heavy heart, one that sunk even further when she found the man himself to be even more drunk than he had been at the banquet.

“Courtesan!” He gurgled loudly as he downed the last drop in his glass. “I’ve been waiting for my turn with you.” He lounged ungraciously on his couch and fumbled with his breeches, flopping out his wrinkled little prick before she had even agreed to attend him. 

“Come here and rub me will you, damned thing takes a while to work these days especially with the wine, you understand.”

Amie steeled herself. Her client could not know what she was feeling, she was too good to show her emotions. “I should be delighted to attend you.” She said as she made a show of locking the door to his chamber and sauntering over to him. Amie smiled sweetly and stroked her finger down the side of his face. “All in good time though my dear Count. First allow me to refill your drink and pour one for myself. We have all night after all.” She said with a wink and before he could protest she swiped his glass from his loose hand, turned her back from him and filled two glasses.

Seating herself next to him she purred “To a pleasurable evening.” And raised her glass to her lips, watching with eager eyes as her client too drank deeply.

One drop was all it took. 

He was already so drunk that within a matter of seconds his head was drooping down onto his chest. Amie laid him on his side, put a blanket over him and heard a loud rumbling snore that reverberated in the otherwise silent room. 

Now unobserved Amie allowed her perfect smile to fall. “Merde.” She cursed quietly and fumbled with her pendant to ensure the stopper was secure. The Count would sleep till morning, but she still couldn't leave soon enough.

_ I have been mistaken after all _ . Amie reflected as she returned to her opulent but lonely room. How naive she had been to think that the Commander, a man already in love, a man with more admirers than she had dresses could be more.

* * *

Amie was punctual for her weekly appointment with the War Council despite her unpleasant evening. The Inquisitor had returned early in the morning and now, following the confidential debrief the important servants came to make their weekly reports. She arrived just as the Quartermaster was leaving.

She rapped on the door politely and heard Josephine call for her to enter.

It was important to give the illusion of indifference even if she was internally reeling and so made sure to greet everyone as she always did. Nothing spoke of suspicion more than purposefully avoiding someone's eye contact or forgetting one's manners.

The Commander seemed to forget this important rule, his gaze was fixed firmly on the map before him. His hand gripping the hilt of his sword and a deep furrow on his brow.

Josephine began with a cheerful announcement “We have secured an invitation to the peace talks in three months time!”

“That is splendid news, I must congratulate you Ambassador.”

“Please it is not all me. The work the Inquisitor has done in Orlais has been the key factor, plus I’ve no doubt your services and good words have helped tremendously.” The Commander gave a mocking scoff.

Amie, ignoring his interruption shook her head with modesty, “I shan’t take any credit.”

Leliana spoke up with a lilting laugh. “Yes I’m sure Count de’Forso’s boasting away about your night with him over breakfast this morning had nothing at all to do with it.”

The Commander’s eyes now snapped up. Despite herself she glanced at him, there were dark rings under his eyes, his brow had a sickly sheen to it, his glare flashed quickly with hurt before it became one of anger.

_ Oh, now I see _ . She thought with sadness.  _ It’s because of what I am _ . 

Amie, although not unmoved by his distress, replied politically. “I’m sure the council understands that I couldn't possibly comment.” 

Josephine nodded. “Regardless, this brings me onto my next point. We need to begin preparations for the Ball at once. Madame De Fer and I are coordinating the tailoring but could you aid with dance instruction?”

“Of course, I shall arrange an appointment for next week. Who will need to attend?” 

“Sera and the Commander.”

“No, I'm not dancing.” Came the instant and irritated dismissal.

“Commander it is  _ expected _ .” Josephine replied exasperated.

“I am not dancing!”

“Cullen,” Filaur’el spoke up from her usual perch, Amie had quite forgotten she was even in the room. “What if I asked you dance, surely you wouldn't want to disappoint me?”

The Commander's eyes flicked from the Inquisitor, then turned to her, a challenge in his gaze.

“No indeed, it would be my  _ pleasure _ .”

Amie was not a jealous woman. Years ago when the only man she had ever cared for put her aside she had found the grace to wish him well and mean it. But the Commander’s placid and simpering agreement to Filaur’el’s request. The thought that no matter how many times the Inquisitor passed him over she would always be first in his heart...it irked her more than she wanted to admit. Her mask of serenity didn’t move as she took her farewell but a heavy Lead like lump of disappointment lodged itself firmly in her gut.

The Commander made no attempt to speak to her in the week that followed. And she, bound by her rules, made no move to chase him. She had feared some fallout from the misuse of her oil. Fortunately, or not depending on the way she considered it, her reputation was still intact as de’Forso had no shame in telling the whole of Skyhold about their supposed night of passion. She longed to decry him for the liar he was, but it wouldn't be the first time a man had boasted a falsehood about her and she was certain it wouldn't be the last. As a Courtesan  _ she  _ was bound to secrecy, her clients less so.

Despite the awkwardness that was sure to arise in the Commander’s presence she was looking forward to the dance lesson. She had known Sera for a few years as Jenny and it had been pleasant to meet the girl behind the icon.

Ordinarily she would have given such instruction in her mundane clothes. Not today, today she wanted to wear her armor. She was proud, a Courtesan of the Guild and would not be ashamed of herself or her work. A loosely curled pink wig fell delicately around her shoulders and she dressed and stained her lips in complementary shades. Her dress was provocative and alluring and if the Commander couldn't stand the sight of her then so much the better.

This would be a deterrent for the fastidious General. A brightly colored warning for him to stay away, just like the exotic creatures of Antiva. 

He had to stay away, her mask was paper thin.

When they both arrived at the allotted time she noticed that he looked grim, tired and was also dressed for battle.

“Commander you can’t dance in armor, remove it please. Sera, let me work with you while he does so.” She offered him no other greeting and instead began her lesson.

“Are you happy that Filaur’el has returned?” She asked Sera as they walked through some of the steps. The Commander, now divested of his metal, stood brooding in the corner. She had instructed him to watch her lead and so he did. His gaze never left her for an instant and though she wanted to find it gratifying, his recent allusions to the propriety of her career instead made the action seem critical. 

“Pfft, no not that one. Fifi only cares about Elvhen glory, or one Elfs glory in particular. You should hear them when they are sharing a tent all ‘Vhenan’ this and ‘Arlathan’ that, all the while humping like nugs.”

Amie although slighted herself wasn’t cruel. This couldn't have been easy for the Commander to hear and so she took pity upon him and deftly changed the subject.

“You are doing really well Sera!” She said with forced cheerfulness.

“Teaching a Jenny and a Jackboot how to dance, bet you didn’t imagine you would be doing this when you were a wee one.” Sera commented and Amie laughed at the well timed diversion.

“No indeed. Truth be told I wanted to be a Lay Sister but the Ostwick Chantry were too strict about their inductees.”

“Howwzat?”

“Well even though I was a virgin because I had been newly betrothed they closed the door on me.” Amie mimicked the voice of the old crone of Chantry Mother who had refused her twelve year-old self.  _ “How can you be the Maker's bride if you are already wed in his eyes?” _

“Well she sounds like a right bitch, what did you say?” 

Amie grinned and recounted one of her first triumphs of wit. “I said I shall ask Andraste. She was wedded, bedded and bore children before the Maker decided that married women make the best lovers!” 

Sera’s peel of laughter  _ almost _ muffled the sound of the Commander’s quiet snort of amusement followed by a resigned, remorseful sigh.

\---

_ I have been an arse. _

It wasn’t the first time he had acted as such and it undoubtedly wouldn't be the last. The night of the celebratory banquet his withdrawals had taken a turn for the worst. Rather than attend and risk having Amie see him sweating and weak as a child he had instead remained in his loft to ride out the fever in solitude. He hoped, foolishly, that she would attend him without invitation but of course she did not. She had her rules and he thought he had respected that.

How wrong he had been.

The following morning he had been just as ill but had resolved to talk to her as soon as possible and clear the air. There was  _ something _ between them, he knew it in his soul and he didn't want one misunderstanding to crush that small seedling of real affection. So he had believed, at least till he had heard that blasted Count boasting away, had learned she had taken a different lover the night she should have been with him.

Cullen already knew from his failed courtship of the Inquisitor that he was a jealous man. But the wave of green eyed envy that now soaked into his every pore was incomparable. The beautiful Courtesan who had bewitched him had unsurprisingly laid with another as her position demanded and Cullen very nearly flew into a fury. He had acted spitefully during the meeting, making a show of courting the Inquisitor's good opinion when in truth he only had thoughts for Amie.

Cullen scolded himself as he watched her dance with Sera. Why was he behaving this way? She was not his. He had no claim to her time or her heart beyond any other patron and yet this longing...the bitterness he felt at knowing he was interchangeable  _ hurt _ . It stung more than the Herald’s rejection. Though his anger had cooled over the week, shrunk to a smoking ember he knew it was ready to spark at a moment's notice. He couldn’t go on like this.

Although they were on the other side of the small undercroft he could still hear every word of their conversation. Now he learned she had been betrothed, had been unlucky in love herself. No doubt promised to some tradesman’s son or other but unhappy tidings had parted them. And then to add to her sad story she had been failed by the church she was so clearly devoted to and forced into the life she led now. 

He desperately wanted to know the circumstances surrounding her sad fortunes. Wanted to know more about her history and her upbringing. Did she even have any family other than a dead sister? What of her parents or friends, he didn't even know where she hailed from.

Cullen sighed from shame and sadness. His jealousy and coldness had ruined it all.

And Cullen was jealous. Jealous of her past lovers, jealous that she had once been promised to another, jealous of her affection which she so freely distributed among everyone at Skyhold low and high alike. As he watched the pair dance he reflected on his emotions with disgust, he felt as vexed, tired and haggard as he no doubt looked.

Soon it was Cullen’s turn to lead and Amie was cordial despite his constant abuses of her. Kind and patient despite Sera’s giddiness and his unwillingness. She would have made the kindest, most charitable of Lay Sisters had her fortunes taken a different turn. His curiosity now unbridled when they were out of earshot he asked Sera somewhat inconspicuously, “You seem to know Lady Amie rather well.”

“Of course I do, she and I go way back.” Cullen’s brows furrowed, Sera was not at all Amie’s typical clientele . 

“Wait are you jealous?”

_ Is there any use in denying it? _ Cullen didn’t even try, his cheeks reddened.

“Hahaha you are!”

“Keep your voice down.” He hissed.

“Can’t blame you, she's all big tits and pouty lips. Doesn't swing my way though or at least not without serious payment.”

Cullen stiffened at the unpleasant reminder of her profession. It was noticed by Sera who gave him a well timed kick to the shin, unobserved by their patient tutor.

She whispered, “Oh take the stick out of your arse. It’s just a job like any other. Repressed knobs like you love to judge. Doesn’t matter how many little people she helps, she'll never be virtuous in your eyes because she isn’t an doe eyed dolt.”

Sera’s criticism was fair. And he could only reflect on his harsh and unfair preconceptions that he seemed unwilling to look past. They concluded the dance and Sera gave an awkward curtsy while he bowed over her hand. Lady Amie said her farewells to Sera who skipped from the room and turned to offer the same to him. 

“I saw a marked improvement over the course of the hour. I think you shall be just fine at the ball.”

She turned to leave and Cullen panicked. “Dance with me?!”

“Pardon?”

“I, I mean I think I need some more practice.” He said feebly.

Amie clearly was at war with herself, she chewed her lip indecisively till her professionalism won the day and she agreed with a small nod.

The moment she was within his reach Cullen pulled her close on instinct. He breathed a sigh of relief at having her in his arms again but Amie stiffened, took a step back and without meeting his eyes adjusted the position of his hands.

“On three, now just like I showed you.” She said calmly as they began to walk through the steps.

He wasn’t sure how long they danced for but he was so grateful he removed his armor. He could feel the heat radiating from her body and when they came together the brush of her curves against his chest stoked the fires of his unquenchable desires.

His hand started to drift lower on her spine and Amie’s grip on his shoulder tightened infinitesimally. They moved as one. It was simple and beautiful. When he took hold of her hand to spin her he felt her pulse thrumming beneath this thumb. Where their bodies connected there were hidden, unseen sparks. Cullen was wholly engrossed in their dance and in reading the silent communication conducted via their tiny, tentative of touches. Their rehearsed steps gave way to a simple swaying and all pretense at learning was abandoned. Only then did Amie finally,  _ finally _ raise her eyes to his. Cullen crumbled under her questioning gaze and confessed at once. 

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

She blinked, her face unreadable as an awkward silence prevailed.

“Say something,” He urged, his fingers drawing circles on her back.

Her jaw clenched and when she spoke it was in a neutral, flat voice. “I have nothing to say to you Commander that isn’t strictly professional.” 

He deserved her ire “Amie I’m so sorry. I have wanted to speak to you all week.”

“And what stopped you?!” She snapped. Forgetting herself and offering him a glimmer of the person and the hurt feelings beneath her perfectly kept facade. Caught off guard he gaped as he sought to think of a suitable response. 

Amie pressed “Don’t try to make excuses. You haven’t once approached me even after  _ promising _ you would do so.”

_ How have I made such a mess of this? _ His eyes dropped to her shoulders and he fingered the pretty pink curl resting there. “I had wanted to.” 

He could say no more before Amie turned away. Clearly exasperated but unwilling to let him see her emotions. As she started to pull away from him Cullen lent forwards and wrapped his arms around her. Her back crushed against his chest in a desperate bid to keep her close, to fix what he had almost certainly ruined. He could just tell her the truth, that he had been ill... Instead he put the burden back on her. He said feebly, "You could have sent for me?”

She huffed and broke free of his arms glaring fiercely. “Commander I have rules I must follow.”

“I know.” He said, walking forwards as she took a step back.

“I am a Courtesan.” She said proudly, her chin tilting up in defiance.

“I know.” He said again, matching her slow retreat till her back hit the cold stone wall behind her.

“I am proud of my position and my work and I won’t be shamed from doing my duty.” Her palms were placed flat on the wall behind her and her chest heaved in it’s constraints. The tell tale blush now stained her cheeks, her lips parting as he neared.

“I know.” He repeated as he moved his body in close, trapping her against the wall.

“Do you?” She challenged him, her green eyes filled with turmoil, lust and confusion.

Cullen didn't touch her but he rested his hands either side of her and fixed his eyes on her own.

“Yes, but I also know that I have  _ never _ thirsted for someone the way I do you.”

Amie gave a happy sigh but made no other effort to talk, or to move away. It was for Cullen to convince her.

“I have to have you.” He stated.

She remained silent waiting, needing more from him.

Gently he brought his hand up to her cheek and begged. “Please, I don’t want your favor, I just want you.”

Amie’s eyes dropped to his lips a flicker of a smile on her own. “Yes,” she said, sounding almost dazed. 

“Yes?” Cullen nearly wept as he brought his lips to hers and they exchanged a soft caress of a kiss.

The soft brush of their lips quickly became heated. Cullen’s hand on her cheek slid into her hair and he tugged slightly to tilt back her head and expose her throat. While she stroked her hands over his clothed body, avoiding the area he  _ needed _ her to touch most and driving him wild in the process.

He kissed and licked at her sensitive skin till she gasped, “I’m still angry with you.”

Cullen hummed. He didn’t mind that she was angry. He was still furious himself and even though she was now pinned in his arms… was allowing herself to be ravished by his hungry mouth he still morbidly considered who else had been able to taste her like this. Who else had she permitted to press kisses along her exposed shoulder, to inhale her alluring scent? And how many others had she given such pretty, pleasured sighs for.

His temper flared. His soft attentions quickly turned hard and sucked and nipped the hollow of her throat till an angry red bloom appeared. He pulled his head back with a satisfied smirk, she was marked out as his, at least for now. “You are a bastard,” she moaned a complaint and tried to push him away from their overheating bodies.

Cullen took her hands and pinned them down by her side fixing her with a lustful yet dangerous glare. “Have you taken many men to your bed since I last had you?”

What sounded like a grumble of disapproval vibrated in her chest. “Don’t ask me that.”

The displeasure became a cry as he slid his thigh against her apex and pressed his whole body against her. His cock was hard in his breeches and he ground it against her soft curves while she rolled her hips against his muscled leg. 

As she tried to wriggle both towards him for friction and away from him out of spite while Cullen shifted her hands. Pulling them together above her head and holding them in one hand's strong grip while he worked on the front of her dress.

“I want to know.” He said seriously while his hands began to loosen the ribbons on that crossed the bust of her gown. The stays quickly fell loose under his furious assault and her heavy breasts were finally freed of their confines. He saw her nipples harden under his scrutiny as he brought his free hand up to tease her sensitive flesh.

“Do their cocks fill you as well as mine?” He asked unashamed as his playful stroking of her bosom became firmer and more demanding. He tweaked one of her nipples and her head fell back against the wall, a moan escaping her parted lips.

“Or do their limp dicks leave you feeling unsatisfied?”

Her indignation at his questioning flared and she snarled back. “At least I have had lovers. Tell me how are Solas and the Inquisitor getting along?”

He ignored her jibe for now as he brought his hot searching mouth to her chest. He kissed the softness of each breast in turn and Amie, still irate rasped through her pleasure. “Last I heard they were making all kinds of promises to each other.”

Annoyed at her teasing he pulled a little too hard on her nipple causing her to cry out. He switched to the other, and to this one he latched and began to suck while his hand snaked downwards and lifted up her skirts. 

Amie bucked and whimpered as he dragged his hand up the length of her thigh, his exploration blocked by her delicate undergarments. Enraged at his lack of response to her testing words she spat. “Apparently he can dream-walk you know. Even if you were in her bed it would be him she was fucking in her sleep.”

With a dangerous growl the hand beneath her skirt  _ ripped  _ something. And Amie’s eyes rolled back into her head as his fingers now cupped her bare core.

She was flushed and lost to the sensations as he fanned the flames of her pleasure. She looked so beautiful yet utterly debased and Cullen found his anger dissipating with each little mewl she gave. 

“I don’t care about her or who she is sleeping with.”

“Yet you care about who I take to bed?” She whimpered as he stroked along her wet slit, testing her entrance.

“Yes!” He growled as he slipped one finger into her heat, finding her soaked and relishing the squirm of her body as she adjusted to sensation. Releasing her arms he now kissed her hard. His tongue questing and exploring while his finger, doing the same, stroked her inner walls. He had to try and express with actions what he was unable to say with words. He coaxed her, probed her and all the while his erection throbbed painfully in his leathers.

Amie’s eyes opened, dazed and delirious from the pleasure “Why?”

_ Why? _ Cullen hardly knew. “Because, I-” Resting their foreheads together he withdrew his finger from her core and hiked up her layered skirts. With a firm grasp he hoisted her up by her thighs and Amie wrapped her long legs around his waist.

“I-” he tried to speak again but necessity now took over. With Amie balanced between the wall and his hips he wrenched at the laces of his leathers. His aching cock springing free and with a small step forward lined himself up with her wet heat.

He had to be in her, they had to be one. Nothing else now mattered.

“I-” Any other words were lost to him as he impaled her on his length with a grunt of satisfaction.

\----

Amie didn’t get to hear his answer about just why he cared about her bed mates.

And now she didn't care.

There was nothing quite as wonderful as the feeling of the Commander against her, within her and around her. His cock was hard and thick and stretched her body with a pleasant tingling sensation. The veins and ridges of his length and tip stimulated her inner bundle of nerves while their connected hips ground together as he drove against her body and the wall.

He moved maddeningly slowly at first. Taking his time to lift her from his length before spearing her warmth once more. All the while bruising her with his kisses and his vice like grip under her thighs.

“You have the sweetest, tightest cunt.” He praised as he sheathed himself again adjusting her weight so he could begin to move with more urgency.

Urgent, desperate and needy. It always was between them. As if the very air around them would turn to flame if they didn't become one. It couldn't last. This feeling between them burned too bright and too hot, it would run its course and peter out soon she knew it. 

If this was to be the last time Amie would mark him just as he had her. Though he still wore his shirt she dragged her nails down his back till he hissed.  Sucked at the skin of his neck till she had left her own blood colored mark.

“Yes Amie, sweetheart!” He said as she did all she could to possess him in the short time she had with him. Trying to regain some semblance of control of her body and of her emotions while she was bounced firmly on his cock. Ultimately resigned and happy to be powerless as he held her and fucked her with the brutality she had seen of him in the training ring. The invisible tether that had been tightening around them for weeks squeezed and coiled around their bodies for all it was worth. Choking away all other thoughts but them and how good they felt together and how _right_ it all was.

It was too intense, it had been too long and Amie with her fingers digging into his shoulder for support and her thighs clamping down around his waist orgasmed with keening cry.

The Commander gave a broken shout of “Yes!” And captured her lips as his hips stuttered beneath her. His groan muffled into her mouth as his cock throbbed and then spilled it's gift.

Just like last time he cleaved to her body. His arms must have been aching and his breaths came in ragged pants but he still held her tightly and remained connected to her while he bathed in the afterglow.

“I wish that you were mine.” He mumbled quietly into the crook of her neck.

Amie had heard the sentiment before but to hear it spoken softly, so soon after their mutual completion... Amie swallowed back the lump in her throat. For the first time in her life she regretted her chosen path.

“I am my own.” She asserted without showing him the inner turmoil she felt, she had to.

His head raised and he brushed her cheek with the lightest of touches, Echoing their earlier argument he replied with a soft sad smile. “I know.”

They adjusted their clothing and walked towards the exit hand in hand. The Commander’s grip tightened as they ascended the stairs unwilling for them to part till propriety demanded it.

Amie struggled to make small talk. “Ah, you seem to be feeling a lot more confident in your sexual expression.” That was an understatement. He was more verbal, quicker to ask and express his desires. Jealousy was an ugly emotion but on him it had looked so  _ so _ good.

The Commander flushed slightly at her praise “Yes, well you have been a most patient instructor.” He replied teasingly and Amie gave a small giggle.  _ This is nice _ , she had a warmth in her chest and a feeling of lightness in her heart. 

“Well, if you ever want more  _ lessons _ from me, just ask. I have been reconsidering my earlier reticence to teach you…”

Cullen stopped just before the entrance to the Grand Hall and turned to look at her “What are you saying?”

Maybe it was time she took a leap of faith? “I take a client, once or perhaps twice a month. That is twenty eight other nights I am all alone.”

“Amie?” He questioned sounding so hopeful and overjoyed at her proposition.

“I would be very willing to spend more time with you, without the ceremonial address,  _ providing _ you won’t hold my position as a Courtesan over me.”

_ Please agree _ , she thought anxiously.

There was no hesitation in his response. “Yes. Amie yes. I will never, never again. I swear it to Andraste.”

He kissed her and Amie’s eyes slid closed, a feeling of acceptance and maybe something more washing over her. And after all the urgency, the softness and tenderness he displayed always made her knees weak.

He bumped their noses together with a chuckle “I will always take whatever you are willing to give me.”

Amie’s smile was bright and genuine. “Well then I shall see you tonight Commander.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look ^^^^ art!
> 
> I have added some into Chapter 6 and also have a piece ready for Chapters 8, 10 and 12. Maybe more to come.  
> Also come and say hi on Tumblr if you are about @Kemvee.
> 
> Thank you all again for your lovely comments, kudos and ongoing support. I'm having a lot of fun writing this :)  
> Take care all x


	8. History

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW : nsfw art ahead

The Courtesan, _no, Amie_ came to his room that very evening.

And the one after that, and the one after that. And for a whole month not one night went by when he didn’t receive a visit from his beautiful new infatuation. 

And Cullen was infatuated.

Sometimes she came to him in her simple clothing after a day of teaching. Pulling her into his lap he would loosen the stays on her shirt to free her breasts. Then, tugging at her braid to encourage her head to tilt back, enjoy a gluttonous embrace licking at her sensitive skin and sucking on her nipples till she cried out for more. After she was panting, begging and temptingly wet he would hike up her woven woolen skirt and slide her underwear down from her legs. Either lifting her onto the edge of his desk or, more often than not, bending her over it, sating in his need for her with a hard and urgent coupling. 

When it was like this... if he focused only on her, blocking out the sounds from the patrolling guards or the bustle from the courtyard he could almost imagine them as any pair of lovers. He found himself fantasizing about if they had met under different circumstances. If he was just the plain Fereldan man he had been born to be and she, a comely and kind village girl.

Would he have asked her to dance during a Summer's Day festival? Would his family have encouraged him? Instead of pushing aside strategies and troop movements to make space for her writhing body they would instead find solace in a barn or farmhouse.

Her cry of his title, _Commander_ , invariably brought him back to himself.

That was one fantasy too far. The only reason he had been bold enough to approach her in the first place was _because_ she was a Courtesan. Otherwise he would never have entertained a hope of having someone so fine, so desired, so lovely as Amie to give him their regard. Besides, Cullen had found contrary to his earlier prejudices that he rather enjoyed seeing her as the alluring Courtesan she was.

The nights she came to him directly from an event in the Keep she would appear in her luxurious gowns and brightly colored wigs. Her complexion, her eyes, each were enhanced or made more beautiful depending on the opulent colors she wore or the delicate application of her makeup. Green and blue accentuated the natural tone of her irises. Darker colors made her skin appear almost ethereal by comparison. Pinks and reds complimented the blush of her cheeks and the kiss swollen scarlet of her lips and Cullen found excitement in waiting to see which version of Amie would appear before him that day.

Despite her ever changing appearance there were some certainties about their time together. Amie always attended him in his office and although he never asked her about it he felt certain of the reason. _Her reputation must remain unblemished_. That was why, although she had a poor experience with Gaspard, she couldn't complain. It was why her rule of never discussing what went on behind the bedroom door was so important, secrecy was her tool if she were to retain her patronage. He respected it and respected her. He couldn't imagine what her having a favorite, as he sheepishly thought of himself, would do to her career. So for her sake he was determined to keep their relationship secret. Despite the ever growing desire to see and be seen with her away from his desk or his loft.

Another recurring theme to their nights was the urgency. They would always come together at once, both hungry and desirous. Oftentimes not a word was spoken between them before they were wrapped in each other's arms. Then after, in the glow and period of rest that followed they would talk together of travelling, of literature and the Inquisition. Cullen was heartened to know that for all her partiality to finery her true tastes seemed to run closer to his. 

He began to find that when Amie was with him he felt more than the lust which attracted him early on. He was happy. Her presence brought him peace from his nagging withdrawals and she made him feel good beyond the physical. Cullen had never considered himself a proud man but she gave him pride in himself. Pride as a lover, if her cries and gasps were any judge. Pride as a strategist, when she complimented him on the Inquisitions successes. Pride as a man. 

Amie found value in him beyond his skill with a sword. And that fact stemmed the flow of self-disdain that had been leeching him of purpose and certainty for a decade. She never stayed till morning and still only ever addressed him as Commander but Cullen was gratified and humbled by every heartening second of their time together.

Today he was certain would be no different. He knew this little Elysian bubble he had made for himself couldn’t last much longer, she had been in his bed and his bed only for thirty nights. Time and duty would separate them soon, so he was determined to make the most of her charity while she could bestow it. 

Breakfast passed, then noon, then at the approach of night he began to look to the office door with anticipation. 

The moment his Captains meeting ended, at little earlier than he could have hoped she came before him, a sultry smirk playing at her lips. 

“Amie,” he sighed softly, sounding a little lovesick. He cleared his throat and addressed her more firmly. 

“Good evening My Lady.”

She stifled a giggle at his quaking voice and then spun slowly on her heel. “How do I look?” She asked with a mischievous glint as she paraded for him. Her dress was in the wrap-over style, lined along the collar and cuffs with fur and cut from such a dark midnight blue cloth that it almost appeared black in the candlelight. 

“You look-” While her back was turned from him she un-belted the gown and slid the garment to the floor in a puddle of twilight. Beneath it she wore nothing. 

“-Maker’s Breath!” He gulped, reaching towards her with a very sudden, very pressing need to touch every inch of her beautiful bared skin. She held up a hand to stop his approach. Smiling at his eagerness and said, “tonight I thought we could try something a little different.”

“Oh?” He replied frustrated, but curious nonetheless.

She hummed and with an enticing curl of her finger bid him to follow her up his ladder.

Cullen, transfixed by her swaying hips and the sinful sight of her shapely behind as she ascended stood quite dumbly.

“And bring my dress with you Commander!” That brought back his attention and bundling the garment under his arms he sprang up the ladder.

Once ascended he took a moment to take stock of the moonlit vision before him. The swell of her breasts and hourglass of her figure were both softly lit. Her hair, shining and lustrous was calling out for him to weave his fingers through it. Her eyes sparkled as she neared and, as she had done so many times before now she began to help him remove his armor. He loved this ritual they now performed, it was the closest, he presumed, that he would ever get to domestic bliss.

With a gentle kiss his mantle was slid from his shoulders. Then while their lips were engaged in a soft caress Amie’s hands slipped his worn leather gloves from his fingers. Now open to the sensation of touch he reached up to cup her face while she began to loosen and tug at the various buckles that held his armor in place. His vambraces, pauldrons and chestplate all piled on the floor and were topped with his gambedsmon.

With so little between their bodies Cullen could now draw her in close. He could feel the heat of her through his thin cotton undershirt and he cleaved her to him, relishing in the press of her soft curves against his hard muscle and building the friction that would soon set her body aflame. They held and kissed and groped each other till she gave a breathy yet impatient mewl of frustration. Chuckling at her predictability he pulled his shirt over his head, mussing his hair in the process and groaning as she glided her touch over his exposed torso. 

While biting her lower lip she deftly circled his nipples. Traced the ridges and edges of his taut soldiers physique, tugged playfully on his chest hair and with excruciating slowness traveled ever lower till she could palm the solid bulge already threatening to burst from his leathers. Cullen let her explore his body till her heart's content. Leaning in occasionally to kiss her, his own hands never stopping petting, tickling and grasping. When his need became too pressing he encouraged her to take a step back, then another and another till her legs hit the edge of his bed.

“Amie,” he groaned as she still stroked over his coverings, squeezing his shaft firmly through his pants till he hissed and pulled her hand away.

“Strip me.” He ordered.

Amie gave a pleased hum and murmured “Yes Commander.”

She guided him to sit on the bed and knelt on the wooden slats to remove his boots, then peel his leathers down his legs. Cullen’s erection was already standing hard and proud and he stifled a groan as she licked her lips with anticipation. Would she suck him to completion tonight? Or perhaps lean over the edge of the bed for him to take from behind? Or even sprawl out on the floor… It wouldn't have been the first time.

“Lay back on the bed,” she purred and he complied with a slight furrow on his brow. Her gentle hands trailed up his body and he felt her weight settle over his thighs as she straddled him.

Cullen stiffened and sensing his discomfort she lifted herself up onto her knees.

“You’re not used to having a woman on top?” She asked without malice or judgement.

Cullen’s throat bobbed “I-I like to be in control,” was all he could say. If she knew the truth, just like his withdrawals it would be seen as a weakness. And although he was certain she would not think less of him for his experiences, the very act of admitting it… It would erode the masculine pride he had only just been nursing.

“Do you trust me Commander?” She asked with a reassuring smile.

At his terse nod she kissed him again. Softly and soothingly as she slid her body over his.

His body relaxed as he got used to her weight above him and Cullen’s hips bucked unconsciously as he felt her heat temptingly close to his aching need.

Suddenly her body shifted from his, there was some readjusting, limbs covering limbs “W-What are you - oh!”

Cullen’s head fell back against his pillow with a quiet thump as holding his girth in one hand she began to lick and kiss the tip of his now weeping cock. He opened his eyes and was greeted with the most divine view of her pink folds a hair's breadth away from his face. He groaned as she took more of his length into her mouth, each second another millimetre being swallowed down her throat. Whether she intended for him to reciprocate or not didn’t matter at that moment Cullen _had_ to taste her. 

He heard a satisfied moan reverberate deep in her chest, the vibrations pulsing along his cock as he lapped at her seam. He loved her flavor, a salty and sweet musk which he feasted upon like a man starved. Encouraged by the gentle rock of her hips against his face he focused more fully on the task of bringing her pleasure. It proved difficult as her skillful mouth continued to pull and suck at his now throbbing length. When he suckled at her clit she would groan around him, which caused him to thrust a little deeper into her throat. And he was deep, her tongue undulating and petal soft lips coaxing him into bliss. At times her head rose for measured controlled breaths before swallowing him down once more.

Cullen had never done this before, but he loved it. Loved the mutual giving and receiving of pleasure, loved fighting against his desire to come into her mouth, loved the increasing pace of her ministrations as she started to lose the battle of control. She may have been over him, he was pinned beneath her weight but as her body began to stiffen and her muffled cries became louder he knew he was the dominant party. And Cullen liked to be the dominant one. He gripped firmly onto the flesh of ass as she started to quiver, her spine arched and whole being vibrated as she came with a muted scream around his girth.

Cullen, his own being wound so tightly that just a few thrusts would send him over the edge, held still till her body had softened in his grasp.

As she rose herself up to start the assault anew on his painfully hard cock he slid out from beneath her. 

Cullen loved coming on her tongue or painting her chest in his spend but he would always, _always_ fill her sheath if he could. Something about the animal, primal feeling of placing his seed within her, of owning her for that short moment appealed to his inner barbaric nature.

He had felt it before when she had hinted at her Avaar role-play. There was a desire, a longing there to act out the more depraved part of his psyche.

“Commander?” She questioned, with a concerned glance over her shoulder. A quiet whimper passed her lips when she saw the glint of intent in his darkened eyes and felt him push her body forward so her weight rested on her forearms.

“I’m going to fuck you now, wicked seductress.” He commanded while lining his throbbing tip up with her drenched folds. 

“Yes.” She moaned as she felt the press of him at her entrance then with a grunt of satisfaction he pushed inside her wet welcoming heat.

She gasped at the rapid intrusion her head falling forward for the new stimulation of her already hypersensitive body. Cullen, just like their first night together, took a firm hold of her hips and started to move.

He wouldn’t last long, she had already brought him to the edge with her sinful tongue so he took his fill hard and fast. “Amie, sweet, hot, tight, Amie.” Cullen panted out with each snap of his hips. He looked down with a self satisfied smirk at their joining. Relishing in the bounce of her body with each hard, fast thrust. She held tight to the the sheets and took his cock over and over. Her cries increased in volume as his hips increased their pace.

He was so close. He felt the tightening coil that was his orgasm approaching, his cock stiffened as he prepared to claim her once more.

_Knock Knock_

He barely heard it over the sound of their breathy sighs and the creak of the bed, but it was there again, another firm knock this time followed by the door to his office being opened.

Cullen groaned internally. In his haste to follow her up the ladder he had forgotten to lock the door. Snarling at the interruption his hips stilled, praying that whoever was present would recognize the sounds no doubt overheard and leave at one.

“Commander?” Came the voice of a young man that he half recognized as Josephine’s page. His jaw clenched in frustration, then he saw Amie look down towards the hole that led to his office and her lips parted to speak. Panicking he lent forward and covered her mouth with his fingers, a quiet squeak of surprise muffled.

“What?” He shouted unkindly but he was too frustrated to worry over his manners.

“Commander Ser? Just a message from Jospehine to remind you of the attending nobles tomorrow. You are expected to turn out to greet them.”

“Is _that_ all?!” He hissed.

“Y-yes Ser.”

“Good, get out.”

He heard the fast retreating footsteps and the door close with a telling thud. With a frustrated sigh Cullen dropped his hand from Amie’s lips where they had remained throughout the irritating interaction. He leaned over her body and placed a peck to the back of her neck, before straightening behind her and beginning the slow roll of his hips once more. 

Amie grumbled in disapproval and wriggled away from him. Turning to sit and fix him with a steely glare.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, suddenly unsure at the sight of her scowl on her usually serene features.

She looked aghast at his question. Cullen could guess why. “I’m sorry we were interrupted, I normally lock the door but I forgot in my haste to follow you.”

Amie gave a slight shake of her head and looked at him with hurt in her eyes. “Why did you stop me from speaking?”

“I - well.” How could he explain his reasoning without causing offence.

She arched a brow, not willing to speak until he had explained his actions. “I just thought that, what with our professions it would be better if people didn’t know we were…”

Amie bristled and covered her breasts with her arms, there was a flash of pain in her expression but it was quickly hidden behind a mask of irritation. “You’ve been bedding me every day for a month yet you don’t want anyone to know about us?”

Cullen gaped. He hadn’t seen her angry since their time in the undercroft.

At his ongoing silence she leapt from the bed and strode to his ladder, collecting her gown from the shared pile of their clothing as she went past.

“Amie, wait-” he pleaded.

“What?” She replied, her eyes urging, needing him to understand.

“I-” no answer was forthcoming and instead his eyes dropped to his solid, neglected erection. It was the wrong thing to do.

Amie seethed as she misunderstood his gesture. “Well seeing as you are quick to shut my mouth when it doesn’t suit you I suggest you suck your own cock!”

  
  


\---

The following morning Amie dressed in an icy blue. She wasn’t feeling particularly warm or welcoming today despite her need to act the part. Still, regardless of her irritable mood she arrived at the Great Hall in good time. The turn over of guests happened every other month. The current noble visitors would depart and the new ones would arrive and be shown their rooms, given a tour of the Keep and a welcome dinner was held in the evening. 

As the Courtesan she was expected to attend the whole, it was often her most draining of days. But today she was glad of the distraction. She was still reeling from the callousness of the Commander the previous night.

She had shown him a partiality unlike any other man she had been with before. If she had still been indebted to the Guild she would never have been so bold, but providing she kept to her duties and entertained other men when required she couldn’t see the harm in having something for herself. Not after so many years of loyal service.

That had been her plan, nothing but a bit of inconsequential fun. They were both lonely, they were attracted to each other. But the more time she spent in his company the fainter the line between harmless sex and real affection became.

Amie found him to be an intelligent, thoughtful man with deep feelings beneath his stern exterior. He hid it well, among the other things that ailed him, things he thought he kept hidden from her. Amie was too astute, too skilled an observer to be completely fooled. 

Not that he owed her an explanation or honesty... _but Maker do I crave it. And therein lies the problem,_ she thought of her conflicting desires.

And so Amie had created hurdles to that ‘something more’ that she craved. She still hadn’t said his name, not once and never brought him into her personal space. They were the last thresholds that kept her heart guarded.

She would endure. She couldn’t leave the Inquisition, not while she wanted to honor her sister’s memory. But even the Inquisition wouldn't last forever and if _I can just remain guarded till then_ . A stab of pain lanced her at the thought of leaving behind Cullen… _No, the Commander_ she corrected herself. 

Count DeForso made a show of kissing her hand with an over exaggerated display as he took his leave. She was polite till the last. Internally she longed to decry him as an impotent liar but then she felt pity, for a man to have to boast about a conquest that didn’t even happen reflected more poorly on him than on her. As soon as the last carriage departed the first of the new ones began to arrive and in a matter of hours the whole of Skyhold was abuzz with the new guests. Amie took a quiet moment for herself in Josephine's office before returning back into the fray with a beaming smile. She wove between the crowds like a swift, still ignoring the Commander who stood glowering near the dais. Amie welcomed old friends, greeted new donors, promised pleasures and happiness to all who came to their castle in the mountains, to all who contributed to their virtuous cause.

“Elizabeth?”

Amie barely heard the shouted name over the throng of people.

“Elizabeth?!” This time she ignored it, she had long ago learned not to turn around for that name.

“Elizabeth Catriona Trevelyan!”

_Oh no._

Amie’s smile faltered, a look of alarm, unmasked and raw painted on her features. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the Commander watching her with confusion as her perfect countenance crumbled and a man she never thought she would see again reached out and touched her arm.

_No, no, no._ The man was only a couple of inches taller than her, but he had the same brunette hair and the same Green eyes. His face mirrored hers in every way, except his shock quickly transformed into an expression of pure wonder. “It _is_ you. I- I can’t believe it!”

“ _Brother?_ ”

* * *

“Elizabeth, what is the meaning of this?” Bann Trevelyan glowered as his eight year old daughter ran into the Library. The children, especially the girls were never allowed into the space where he conducted his work.

“M-Maxwell is hurt!” At once the Bann stood and followed her, nothing was too urgent or important where his heir was concerned. He had never taken another wife and Max was his only boy. The twins, her older siblings, were sitting together in the garden. Maxwell sobbed quietly and cradled his hand while Evelyn, clearly panicking, was crying loudly.

“What's going on here.” Their Father’s voice boomed as he took stock of the sight.

The charred, still smoking grass. The red and peeling burns on his son's hand. Evelyn, pale and staring at her own fingers with horror.

_“Mage.”_ He spat.

* * *

“Maxie, aren’t you coming to say goodbye to Evie? She goes to her new school now.”

“It’s not a school. It’s a circle. She’s a Mage and is no longer our sister.” Elizabeth wouldn’t even try to change his mind. He had been grumpy and miserable for the past three days. His hand was still bandaged and she left him to his brooding and skipped over to her sister's room.

“Elizabeth, you will still be my friend won’t you?” Evelyn sniffed as they hugged each other tightly.

“Always. I will find a way to write to you and it will be as if you are still here.” She said brightly, forcing a smile to her face to try and cheer her beloved older sister.

“But I don’t want you to get in trouble.” Evelyn whispered, her whole body shaking from the nerves and anxiety.

“I won’t. I’ll sign my letters ‘Friend’ that way Father won’t know they are from me.” She said cheerily. Elizabeth kept a smile on her face even when the Templars came, even when her sister was pulled out of her arms and even as she was led away. _That way she will remember me as smiling._ Smiling, kind and welcoming even if her young heart was confused and breaking.

  
  


* * *

Elizabeth, almost always listened by a vent to the business her Father discussed in his office. She had done so for years now. She told herself it was to make sure he didn’t find out about her letters to her sister. But in truth she found the world of deals, business and this _‘game_ ’ intriguing.

Today was mostly mundane topics, just her Father and his Steward as always till the latter raised a new and exciting point. 

“We need more funds and this is the easiest way without losing face.”

“Is she not too young to be wed?”

_They must be talking about Evelyn!_ She thought excitedly, hoping her sister, now of age will come back to be wed. _I will have some nieces and nephews_.

* * *

  
  


“Elizabeth, my child come here.” She wasn’t usually allowed in Father’s office and she didn't recognize the man standing by the large window. But she obeys as she has been taught. curtsying like the little lady she is.

“This is Lord Burton.” Elizabeth’s eyes flicked over to the man a similar age to her Father. She has heard the name before and hides her displeasure. Lord Burton says he deals in ‘livestock’ but Elizabeth is not a simpleton. Already she hates him. “He is to be your husband.”

* * *

“Why does Elizabeth get to go to Antiva?” Maxwell bemoaned loudly as the carriage drew near.

Her Father replied coldly. “Because she needs to spend the summer learning from her Aunt about how to be a good wife whereas you my boy will begin your advanced tutoring on the estate.”

Elizabeth’s smile is faultless as she takes her leave. “I’ll see you in a few month’s Max” She hugs him hard, harder than she needs to. For her this is goodbye. The hidden letter in her bag confirms it. Aunt Lucile is to help her, has given her a choice and she has taken it with both hands.

* * *

Amie, reeling and pale from shock dragged her brother into a private Salon. _The Commander saw, everyone saw... Andraste help me_. 

“Elizabeth, I can’t believe it. I - we thought you were dead or taken by slavers.”

“You were mistaken I am quite well.” She remains aloof even though she _is_ happy to see him. He has grown into a fine young man but already she knows that no good can come of their reconnection after nearly two decades and Amie braces herself for a difficult conversation.

“How did you come to be here?” Max asks with a smile. _There is little point in lying, Father can no longer compel me._ Amie sighed, “Evelyn-”

“Evelyn knew you were alive?” He gaped.

“Yes, she was the only person in the family I stayed in contact with. It seemed safe enough after our Father disowned her for her Magic.”

Maxwell rubbed over his gloved hand where he was no doubt still scarred. “I hated all that business you know. At the time I was scared but as I grew I did write to her. Asked for her forgiveness. She never said a word of you.”

Amie swallowed back the lump in her throat at the thought of her siblings reconciling after so many years apart. It was all impossible now. The conclave had destroyed that one cherished hope. “How did you come to be here Brother?” She asked distractedly.

“Father is ill. The courts have been given full power of attorney and I felt it was our duty as Trevelyan’s to aid this Inquisition. Especially after I learned of Evelyn’s death at the Conclave. We were always devout, and an Organisation led by the former Hands of the Divine must be righteous I think.”

Amie was kind in her clarification “The Leader of the Inquisition is the Herald.”

Maxwell waved his hand dismissively. “I mean, she is the figurehead but we all know and Elf will never be in a position of power.” Amie wanted to scoff. Max’s opinion on Magic may have softened but her Father’s prejudices still ran deep in his blood.

“But enough of that, there is time for business later. What of you? You are dressed too finely for a servant. Are you married, can I meet your husband?”

_Courage,_ “No, I am not. I am a Courtesan.”

“A Courtesan.” Her brother's beaming face faltered then fell into a dark grimace “A - A whore?”

Amie remained impassive as Max began to pace, raking his hands through his shock of dark curls. “No, no, you can't be. You're my sister, a Trevelyan.”

_This was never going to be easy for him to hear._

“Were you forced into this? Is there someone who has threatened you?” He asked, agitated.

“No, I chose to leave. That summer when I visited Aunt Lucile in Antiva before I was due to be wed... It was all planned, she gave me a choice and I accepted. I'm sorry couldn’t tell you what had happened but I didn’t want Father to find out.”

Her brother now scowled and replied angrily “You were always against the match, but to commit yourself to a life of sin! Elizabeth, Lord Burton was a good man.”

“He dealt in _slaves_.” She hissed at her brother's ignorance.

Max looked sheepish, _not so ignorant then_. “While his business wasn’t ideal he was kindly in his personal life and a good match for you.”

Amie felt exasperated, she had made these arguments back when it had all been proposed. Max didn’t listen then, he was unlikely to listen now. “He was the same age as Father!”

Max dismissed her again. “Age differences are to be expected in marriage, my own wife is nearly ten years younger than me.” At least this time he had the gaul to look a little embarrassed. _It is not the same and he knows it_ , she wouldn't even dignify that with a response. 

After a long, painful silence he spoke again.

“Father, he only ever had our best interests at heart and I don't want us to quarrel. All of this is in the past. Father has been sleeping for a year. He’s unlikely to wake up again so there’s no reason you can’t come home now.”

“I’m a Courtesan.” She asserted.

“No. Stop saying that. You are not. And anyways it doesn't matter we can fix all that. You can come home, live the life you should have always had. I’m sure in time people will overlook your past and we could find you a suitable husband, you are not yet thirty.”

Amie snapped at his insult “No!”

“What?”

“I won’t go back to just be married off to some prig of a Lord. That was exactly the fate I have spent my whole life avoiding.” Amie made to leave, she couldn't stay in the room a moment longer.

“Elizabeth I am the head of the family now and I order you to come back with me when we return.”

“I am not a Trevelyan any longer!”

“Elizabeth!”

She turned and fixed him with a chilling glare. “My name is Amie.”

\---

Cullen found her, sitting in the Courtyard Garden. 

This time of day it was abandoned. Once the sun had passed overhead the chilly mountain air made itself known and rendered the space cold and unwelcoming. His patrols passed through but no one else.

Perhaps it was the ice blue of her gown and hair but she looked as if she were carved of ice. Her skin and lips had lost their usual blush and she was so still. Without any hesitation he stripped off his cloak, such a difference to the way she pulled it from his body not even twenty four hours ago, and draped it over her shoulders.

“I wanted to see if you were alright.” He said softly and sat next to hear on one of the grey stone benches.

“Are you sure? You didn't want to mock the poor fallen noble.”

His reply was immediate and earnest. “Never.”

She seemed satisfied with his honesty and pulled the long edges of his cloak more tightly round herself. Then slipped her hand towards his. Even through his gloves he could feel how cold her fingers were.

“Good, because I’m not. I chose this life. I’m more free than if I had stayed.”

Cullen was content to sit by her side, offering her his warmth for as long as she desired it. Amie was a noble. A Lady in every sense of the word. If he had felt ill at ease about approaching her as a Courtesan, then he now felt even more inadequate as a potential partner.

“You could go back with him?” He suggested, though the thought of her departing pained him.

She replied stiffly “And what. Get married, have a brood of children before I’m too old?”

“Would that be so bad?” She rolled her eyes but didn’t pull her hand away. He had to tread carefully.

“I don’t mean to be blunt. And please remember that I am a commoner, a Farmer's son myself… But don’t most girls dream for the life of nobility? For wealth and security. Surely by marrying well you would have more freedoms?”

She didn’t rebuke him. Rather she considered his words with care. Whatever sparks of her temper he had inadvertently stoked last night had long been extinguished. _She is too kind to hold a grudge._

“Perhaps, If I had been able to marry for love and at the time of my choosing.” She shook her head sadly “But I was a child, only twelve when they told me I was to be married that Autumn.”

Cullen grimaced, the traditions of nobility always made him uncomfortable. 

“Is that very unusual? I know royalty are usually betrothed from birth; it's not expected that they will consummate the marriage before they are ready.”

Her voice was barely a whisper. “My intended was 45.”

Cullen was speechless, aghast. Fortunately Amie spoke for him, expressing his horror at such a fate far more eloquently than it deserved.

“How can my brother, how can _anyone_ think my being wedded to a man I didn't know, a man old enough to be my Father... Forced to be obedient, raped and bear his children to be free? It was a gilded cage if there ever was one. Running away was the best decision I ever made.”

Cullen felt sick at the thought of a child in such a position. Felt anger at this brother and a family that would even entertain such a notion, felt ready to fight for this woman that he had no claim to. He composed himself and rubbed soothing circles onto her hand. Whispering, “I didn't know.”

Amie snapped “Of course you did not. Because you don't know me and you have done very little to get to know me beyond the physical.” Cullen rushed to apologize but she beat him to it, giving his hand an affectionate squeeze as she did so and turning to him with regret in her eyes. “Forgive me that is unkind and unworthy. I have kept things hidden from you, been reticent to open up about my history and now you see why.”

She didn’t need his forgiveness. So he apologized anyway for his clumsy remark. He felt her pulling away emotionally and, _Maker preserve me,_ he didn't want to lose her.

“What do I call you?”

She gave a dark chuckle “Amie. That is the name I have chosen, the nickname Evelyn gave me so we could write in secret. You see it means friend in Orlesian, we thought we were so clever when we thought of it.” Her happy smile fell, “Elizabeth Trevelyan no longer exists.”

“I like Amie.” His free hand came up to cup her cheek. “ It is a pretty name.”

A long drawn out second, then a minute passed between them and slowly they inched closer. Cullen watched her glassy eyes darken, and newly rose lips part as he neared.

“Amie, I care for you.” He rasped.

She turned her head away suddenly, breaking whatever spell was flickering between them. “You are embarrassed to be seen or heard with me.” 

_Fix this_ he ordered of himself. “No, it was not that. I would never be embarrassed about being seen with you it was just that-”

She interrupted him, “I’m not a fool. I understand you have feelings for the Inquisitor and you’d rather this, us remained secret. I can’t blame you for that. She is beautiful and admirable, there are far worse people you could be in love with.”

Cullen squeezed her hand tightly, urging. “I am not in love with her.”

  
This time she didn't believe him.

“You are a kind man. And I assure you I am not offended. I entered into this life knowing I will never be married, will never be loved as a woman ought to be loved... No one marries a Courtesan.” Amie stood, her sigh turning white in the icy mountain air. “You should go back to the Grand Hall or to your work. I wish to pray.” 

“Will you be alright?”

“Yes, Commander.”

Cullen watched her as she slipped inside the chapel and made to leave himself.

His heart lurched with guilt as he heard her quietly weep to her god.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hands out tissues and hugs*
> 
> This is by far the most angsty chapter.  
> It only gets better for Amie from here, Maker knows she deserves it.


	9. Women's Studies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't already go have a look back over Chapter 3 (I added in some more art - NSFW!)

_ Thank you for lending me your cloak Commander.  _

~~_ I will miss-- _ ~~

~~_ I Hope y- _ ~~

_ Take Care _

_ Amie _

That was the note left in his office the following morning. 

It was on his desk, sat atop the cloak he had draped over Amie’s shoulders the evening prior. Cullen pulled the familiar thick velvet and fur up to his nose and breathed deeply. There were still lingering traces of her perfume mixed with incense from the Chapel she had taken sanctuary in. Sighing, he wrapped himself up in the scent. The note was stowed safely in his desk for now, he would put it in his bedside drawer along with her ribbon later. “To Work,” he muttered as he made his way to the War Room with a heavy heart.

* * *

  
  


The Courtesan had left Skyhold at first light. She, Josephine and Leliana had spent the early hours of the morning discussing what the implication of her brother’s arrival meant and what was to be done. Amie’s identity had been so well kept by her late sister and now deceased Great Aunt that even Leliana hadn’t been aware of her noble roots. Josephine, who first met Amie while she was training in Antiva, had always assumed she had been picked from among the street urchins or slaves to enter training.

_ What a secret for a child to keep.  _ Cullen thought, after his hurried inquiries with the Ambassador that first morning confirmed that Amie had indeed left, but she remained an Inquisition Agent. For now she had gone to develop their influence in Orlais and he thought on, with no little pain, about what that might entail on her part. 

What hurt him more was how much, within the space of a few days he found he missed her. 

He missed seeing her as she sowed harmony and happiness amongst the nobles and her students. Missed their easy conversations and playful interactions. Missed their intimate, heady evenings and the release it brought him. Not only from himself and his repressed desires, but from the physical effects of his withdrawals.  _ And Maker... _ he missed the sound of her breathy voice, the touch of her quivering body and the sight of her hands gripping his crumpled sheets as she came apart beneath him.

“Enough,” Cullen sighed into the silence office and crumpled up the piece of parchment he had spent thirty minutes staring at. His latest attempt to write to her, to clarify what he had said in the Courtyard garden was condemned to the scrap pile. His language, his ability to express himself was now just as it was before they had begun their affair. He could give instruction and Command decisively, a poet he was not. His thoughts and feelings couldn’t flow freely, even on paper.  _ Besides what could I say? _ Cullen silently scoffed. They may be working for the same institution but they operated in very different worlds. He could no more ask her to give up her ‘Courting’ than she could ask him to lay down his sword.

In the end it mattered little. They were at War, in these times even the most acute longing could not be a distraction for long and Cullen was never one to be negligent in his duty. Revitalised from her care and more certain than ever that their cause was just he threw himself into preparations for the battles to come. His men may be inexperienced but he trained them hard, he had to be sure they stood a chance when the news from abroad was increasingly dire. There were reports of new rifts almost daily, of bizarre earthquakes in the Dwarven Kingdom of Orzammar and a barbaric cult rising in the Frostback Basin. 

All the while he fought against his Lyrium addiction which at times threatened to overwhelm him. On those nights instead of staring at the blue vial he kept about he would instead take himself in hand. Wrapping her black ribbon around his palm first to try and mimic her silken sheath. He would please himself to her memory fervently, trading one thirst for another, till at last with a post release haze he would find sleep. A small solace among his toils.

The Inquisitor, once a near indomitable force of fury, hadn't been the same since the sad tidings arrived from Wycombe. Clan Lavellan, along with almost all of the other Elves in the city had been killed in a violent mob attack. An investigation quickly discovered that the Townsfolk had gone mad, their water supply poisoned by Red Lyrium. Cullen had never been more unhappy to be right.

Once her mourning was over Filaur’el was understandably changed. Her decision making faltered, her reliance on the Council’s advice was now sought more than ever. She spoke to him quietly after one such tense Advisor meeting. Throwing her arms around his armoured chest and confiding that she should have trusted his judgement.  _ “If I had just listened to your advice. If I had acted upon the threat of Red Lyrium sooner then maybe...” _

“No Inquisitor.” Cullen strongly rejected such notions. “What if’s are always easy in-hindsight but they will not bring you comfort or the closure you or your Clan deserves.” Filaur’el still clung to him, so he gave what platitudes he could, convinced her of the plan to attack Samon’s Fortress as soon as the peace talks were over and patted her somewhat awkwardly on the back. 

For all his work, for all the small distractions which his friends could provide, Skyhold was still little more than a dull, grey castle in the mountains without Amie’s positive influence. It was colder, less welcoming and more cruel. For the first time since their arrival in the fortress there had been an attempted rape in the castle. One of his regular patrols had come across a minor Lord attempting to assault an Elven Scullery maid. The punishment was swift, but proportionate. Banishment rather than execution at Josephine’s insistence. 

“Is there anything we can do to bring Lady Amie back to the Keep?” He asked in exasperation at the following council meeting, more for himself than expecting any real answer.  _ She is gone _ .

“We can reassess after Halamshral.” Josephine’s reply sounded  _ hopeful? _ Cullen tried to remain impassive but some sliver of relief must have shown on his face at the news.

“Look how happy you have made him Josie!” Leliana’s teasing only made his cheeks flush further.

If he noticed the way Lavellen’s brow scrunched up with discontentment, he wisely ignored it.

* * *

  


_ I would love to hear about Kirkwall Commander. _

“Another time perhaps.”

Cullen hated it here. 

The stench of cloying and conflicting perfumes. Faceless individuals accosting him from every angle about his personal life, his profession and physicality. At first the repetitive questions were irksome but as the evening wore on he began to feel penned in. A crowd of lifeless masks always swarming about and casting looming shadows. 

His fellow advisors seemed to be thriving in this environment. Vivienne and Dorian likewise looked to be enjoying themselves. Even Sera was taking the evening in her stride and giving as much offense as possible.

_ Are you Married Commander? _

“I am Married to my work.” 

It was the truth. A Few months ago he may have considered giving a different answer. But not now, he would give the vultures nothing.

_ Still single then. _ Was there no stopping their unending barrage of insinuations and unwelcome advances? He knew he didn’t look comfortable with his face fixed in a deep scowl and arms folded.  _ Trussed up in these too tight clothes with no armor _ . His familiar long sword traded for a flimsy ornate thing that lacked the comforting weight he had grown used to.

_ Has anyone ever told you you have the most remarkable eyes? _

“Several times this evening.”

Cullen couldn't leave, there was too much at stake. But the constant whispering and lecherous observances soon began to remind him of another, much darker time. Even in the gilded room he could have swore he could see faint purple glowing lines forming up about him. His breaths were shallow, his palms sweaty in their gloves.

His grimace did nothing to keep the Varghests away.

_ Smile Commander! You are so handsome when you smile. _

_ He is just as handsome when he doesn’t. _

It seemed as if the dark hollows of the masks were now shining with eerie yellow irises. The overpowering perfumes mingling and now smelt more akin to demonic sulfur. His head throbbed, his temper fraying.

“Did you just touch me?”

_ I am a weak man, _ or was it a woman? How many times had he been groped in this dark corner now. How could anyone think this was a game? Couldn’t they see the horrors all about them? Couldn't they hear the unnatural cadence of their laughter?

“Commander?”

_ Maker have mercy, _ was he now imagining her voice too?

He had to get out of here. He grasped his dress sword and steeled himself to push past the purple bars that had trapped him when suddenly they vanished.

The swarm parted like a shadowed sea before him and from the wake she stepped forth bringing a much needed iota of space and light with her.

_ She is here _ . Her dress was largely in the same scarlet velvet of his own jacket, the color marking her out as ‘Inquisition’. His sapphire blue sash was mirrored by her own but that was where the similarities in their uniforms ended.

Whereas his jacket was a plain neat cut, her dress was layered, ornately embroidered and adorned in such a way that made her sparkle as she moved towards him.

Her make up was simple but exquisite. Darkly lined eyes and lips painted a deep red, almost the color of blood. Her arms were bared but for gold silk elbow length gloves and twinkling chains, affixed with rubies and sapphires that draped down from an ornate collar. Even her wig looked like spun gold, lustrous and shining piled curls that gave her a halo of radiance in the candlelit hall. Mercifully she wore no mask. A kind, gentle face among the crowd of formless marionettes which had plagued him.

“L-Lady Amie.” He reached towards her gloved hand and she, smiling with her kind eyes, grasped it without hesitation.  _ She is here. _ Somehow his manners didn’t falter as he brought her gloved hand up to his lips.

“It has been too long Commander. Although I’m pleased to see you haven't forgotten me.”

_ Forgotten her?  _ He couldn’t begin to express how much she had consumed his thoughts he opened his mouth to reply but before he could-

_ Will you remember me too Commander? _

_ I can be a Courtesan for you if you’d like?  _

_ Oh look how embarrassed he seems! _

Cullen felt nauseous as the small space Amie had cleared for him was once again crowded. His hand, still grasping tightly onto hers trembled lightly, he wondered if she noticed and prayed she didn’t. _ How weak I must seem _ . He thought through rising panic, his joy and happiness at seeing her quickly tainted by the polluting words about him.

Amie turned to the throng of faceless folk that surrounded him and, silencing any protests before they had even begun, said in the sweetest voice. “I simply must borrow the esteemed Lion of Fereldan for a moment.” The announcement brooked no arguments and she whispered gently for his ears only. “Come and take a walk with me.”

This time the tremor in his hand was too marked to be missed but he couldn't care. Whether she was another illusion or not didn’t matter, she was his anchor now.

“Keep breathing Commander, we’re almost there.” She murmured softly as he was led across pristine marble floors and through gilded door ways. Twisting through the identical corridors that began to spin, or was he just dizzy?

His fawn colored gloves held her golden silk ones in what must have been a crushing grip. One that he refused to relent even when they made it onto a deserted balcony, the cool evening air at once chilling his sweat slicked brow. Cullen gulped for air, his chest fighting the too tight constraint of his jacket.

Without hesitation Amie pried open the golden buttons down to his sternum and loosened the tightly tied collar of his undershirt.

“Is, Is it really you?” He asked with broken gasps.

“Yes Commander...” She replied with a smile, too affectionate to be faked. Her eyes were green not yellow and they shone with worry. He may be clean shaved and dressed finely, but he felt unkempt and haggard next to her brilliance.

“It’s really me,” she reassured him again. Then gave a startled yelp as Cullen pulled her into his arms and held her as if she were his raft in a storm. He didn’t say anymore. He didn’t care about onlookers or the eyes behind the masks. In a pit of poisonous vipers she was his antidote and he  _ cleaved _ to her.

\---

After a few minutes of silent, healing peace, the sound of nearing footsteps pulled the pair apart. Now standing close but not in an embrace she could study the Commander properly. 

He was free of stubble, the first time she had seen him as such. His hair immaculately slicked back and his Uniform was cut to enhance his soldiers physique.  _ But thinner _ she noted with worry and he looked so tired,  _ Oh Commander _ she thought sadly trying not to let her concern cloud her tone.

She tried to pick a safe topic while they were observed. “I understand you have been raising quite the army.” 

“We all have our duty.” He said eyeing the couple that now intruded on their private space.

“It must be a huge burden, caring for so many men and women…” Her words were little more than whisper. “Has no one stopped to take care of you?”

“I don’t need-”

“Hush.” Amie scolded angrily. She had just found him wild eyed and fearful in a corner, he had no right to lie to her. “I’m not a simpleton.”

“You are not, forgive me.” The Commander said looking downcast.

Regardless of the still parading couple close by she moved closer and gently gripped at his fingers. “Are you ever going to tell me what is wrong?”

The Commander looked at war with himself but “I- Can we leave this place and talk?”

Amie, unhappily replied. “I cannot.”

“I see.” He said, resignation in the slump of his shoulders.

The lovers who had walked past them now vacated the balcony, leaving them alone once more. The Commander dropped her hands, loosely tied the neck of his shirt and started re-affixing his parted buttons.

Amie could still see the slightest shake in his hands and felt her determination rise.

“Well, I know what will keep some of those Harpies away from you.” Leaning close into his frame, close enough to detect his fondly familiar Elderflower and Oakmoss scent she pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek, just a little to the left of his scarred lip. She told herself it was just to put lipstick there, but the spark of heat that arose where their skin connected was unmistakable. The Commander must have felt it too, at once he raised his fingers to the spot, his eyes widening. She stepped back, shaken at the intensity of her own attraction and with a quivering voice said “There, now you are marked as mine that should stop-” 

“Amie?” He rasped as he fixed her with a smoldering look of longing that made her next words stutter.

“I, I should go-” 

“Stay.” The Commander ordered as he tugged her back into his arms and crushed their lips together. Amie’s small yelp of surprise quickly transformed into a muffled moan of pure bliss.

This felt good. It felt like home. The hot hard press of him was urgent and demanding. His strength drove her backwards till she felt her back hit a stone wall that concealed them from the sight of the world.

She wasn’t sure how long had passed but with her hands flat against his chest she pushed space between their connected bodies, even as his arms fought to keep her close.

“I can’t. We can’t!” She said, feeling an unwelcome absence as he gave her space. His expression was a mixture of frustration and concern. Amie thought she remembered every detail about her extraordinary Commander, but she had forgotten just how beautiful he was when lust began to dictate his actions.

“Andraste forgive me,” she murmured before pulling him close by the loosened lapel of his jacket. She kissed him this time. Hard and unyielding and broken with breathy moans and small gasps.

“People will see.” She whimpered as his thigh pressed against her apex. Despite the many layers between them Amie’s whole being vibrated from the pleasure the simple action caused.

“Does it matter if you will choose me anyway?” He muttered as he kissed across her ornate collar, finding the skin of her neck where he could. Amie moaned and she clawed at the fabric of his fine clothes.

Her last shred of rationality protested. “You don’t understand. I am not permitted to take a client tonight.”

At those words he stilled and drew back. “Then, why are you here?”

Amie dropped her eyes, she wouldn't lie to him. “Depending on what deals are to be struck I may be needed. I am in  _ reserve _ .”

The Commander’s brow furrowed his voice a hiss. “In what capacity?” 

Amie didn’t try to keep her disappointment hidden. “It is Orlais Commander, deals are often closed with the addition of extra sweeteners.” She sighed. “Whoever is victorious tonight I will most like be offered up as a prize of sorts.”

His tone was now as cold as ice. “You’re saying that if Gaspard were to be made Emperor you might have to go back to him.”

Amie gave slow nod. “What did you say earlier? We all have our duty.”

“No.” He snapped and stepped away from her. Straightening his disheveled clothes.

Amie resigned to watch him leave her side, speaking quietly to herself to drown out her rising disappointment. “I serve the Inquisition. Although I will confess that I  _ hate _ having my choice taken from me.” 

Cullen’s glove under her chin tilted her sad eyes upwards.

“I won’t allow it.” He said before walking away. There was nothing to be done, this was her lot.

Amie took some much needed time to compose herself. She heard the first bell and with heavy steps started to wind her way back to the Grand hall. 

She thought the time away from him would have cooled their frenzied attraction. It had not. She had not been ten minutes in his presence and already her blood was rushing in her ears and her heart was galloping like a racehorse.

For the first time in her memory her resolve wavered.

It had felt so good, so  _ right _ when they kissed. Was it so bad to seek out solace for herself? Especially when it benefited such an important General also? They had managed their affair well enough in Skyhold. Who was to say they couldn't come up with another such arrangement now.

Somewhat numbly but with a perfectly fixed smile she walked back into the fray. She could make out his striking silhouette not far from her. In quiet discussion with the Inquisitor and the other advisors. Idly she noted that Filaur’el looked very beautiful in red and she saw a nod of meaning pass between her and the Commander.

_ Of course _ . She thought. She hadn’t seen Solas here this evening. And the Commander did always say he wanted to dance with her.

  
  


For a moment back on the balcony Amie had forgotten her place. As the evening came to a close she steeled herself. She was a Courtesan. A servant of the Inquisition and she had her duty. 

Yet by some miracle or perhaps Divine intervention it appeared as if she wouldn’t be needed.

The Peace talks were over. Celene and her now reconciled Elven Ambassador were not interested in her services. Rumor always had it that were lovers. But more than that Gaspard, the man who had treated her as a pet rat had been arrested and stripped of all influence.

Amie wanted to weep with happiness. Now free from her obligations she longed to retire and rest.

“Lady Amie?” His dulcet tones called to her just as she had bade farewell to Josephine.

“Yes Commander.” She smiled happy and unrestrained.

“May I escort you to your room?” Though she arched a brow in surprise she gladly accepted his offered arm. They had not taken more than a few steps together when they were interrupted.

“Cullen.”

“Inquisitor.” Cullen greeted cordially, not dropping Amie’s arm. “I must congratulate you on your success this evening.”

“Thank you. I’m certain we have set the right course for the peace of Thedas. I have to say I was surprised at your last minute change of heart. You had been advocating for Gaspard’s victory all evening.”

_ He had? _ Amie eyed him and saw a faint blush on his cheeks. “Yes well, as new information came to light I felt he wouldn't have best served the Inquisitions needs.”  He had. _ Had it been for me? _

The wave of relief soothing Amie’s nerves quickly turned to lead when she heard the Inquisitor’s next words.

“Will you ask me to dance Cullen? I know you Shemlen are clumsy but you do look very handsome in your Uniform.”

Amie’s serene expression didn’t falter even as she began to loosen herself from his embrace.

“Forgive me Inquisitor but no.”

“Oh?” 

“I am escorting Lady Amie to her room. I shall see you when we depart for the shrine in the morning.” Amie, shocked by his refusal, tried very hard not to let her delight show on her face. “Shall we?” He said, as charming as a prince.

“Y-yes. Thank you Commander. Inquisitor.” 

Amie felt as if she were walking on air. She was used to compliments about her appearance or manners. Used to receiving trinkets but for a man to go to such lengths as to depose a would be Emperor. It was too gratifying.

“This is my door.” She said, hope leaching into her tone.

The Commander dropped her arm but took a hold of her hands. “I know you can’t and don’t want to take a client tonight.” She wished she had never told him of that now, now she felt as if she would combust if he didn't kiss her again.

“But what about a lover?” 

Amie gulped “What are you saying-” The Commander bowed deeply over her hand and looking up fixed her with his golden eyes. They burned for her.

“Please, Let me try... allow me to attend you.”

Her breath hitched at the words and he waited patiently despite her stunned silence.

“I-I would like that, very much.” Then with butterflies in her stomach and a somewhat mischievous smile said “How are you at taking orders?”

  
  


\---

“This isn’t quite what I had in mind when you said orders.” Cullen said from his kneeling position by her bathtub. His knees ached slightly, but the discomfort was a small price to pay for the sight of the exquisite Courtesan, naked, wet and submitting to his ministrations. The air was thick with rosewater as Amie, head tilted back onto the curved copper rim, sighed contentedly and murmured “Mmnn, I imagine not. But you needed a diversion from whatever it was that ailed you earlier and I needed to bathe.”

She slid open one eye, the green orb studying him upside down through her thick lashes and urging him to take the opening she had just provided to talk. 

_ I should, I owe her an explanation.  _ ”Later,” he said, contrary to his thoughts. He couldn't bring himself to shatter the fragile moment of peace that had sprung up about them from the chaos of the evening. Instead he focused on the task at hand. His strong fingers lathered the foamed up soap in her long unadorned tresses. The bubbles running in milky white rivers down her neck and over her shoulders while he massaged her scalp. The pleased little mumbles and reverberations in her throat encouraged him to carry on at his work and fueled his ever elevating arousal.

Her bathwater, rich with expensive oils and extracts left her skin supple and made her hair, already soft, feel like feathered-down in his palms. She moaned in appreciation when he poured an ewer full of the hot scented water over her back, then another to rinse away the lingering soap, then a final one down the front of her pinkening chest. She had looked radiant this evening. All crimson, gold and opulent. But the sight of her in all her finery was nothing compared to the luster of her naked skin or the natural flush of her cheeks.

Sweeping her dark wet hair to one side Cullen brought his lips to her throat and kissed a path down and along her shoulder. Amie mewled at the unexpected tickling sensation of his butterfly kisses. “When I said bathe me I didn’t mean with your tongue,” she chastised breathlessly, causing Cullen to chuckle. He edged her chin up with a gentle finger and whispered over her lips “But you taste too good to waste.”

His kiss was gentle at first. Little more than a brushing of petal soft against his own scarred lips. A contradiction to the hard crash of their bodies earlier. This was tender, sweet and slowly the heat between them began to bloom.

Amie raised an arm behind her and gripped at his neatly styled hair. Her wet fingers dampening and mussing up his curls as their kiss deepend and their tongues tentatively touched. His hands, now free of their work, were free to roam over her partly submerged figure. Eagerly he reached forwards and cupped each breast, squeezing the soft mounds and brushing the pad of his thumb over her hardening nipples.

“And you feel even more divine than I remember.” Cullen praised as she arched her back and pressed her wet bosom more firmly into his searching grasp. Her wriggling body indicated a lack of patience but Cullen was determined to take his time with his explorations. 

Lazily he dipped one hand beneath the water's surface and trailed a path down over her sensuous curves to the apex of her thighs. He may have removed his shoes and jacket at the door, but his shirtsleeves now clung to his wet skin, the delicate white linen going translucent in the perfumed water. Cullen didn’t care. Their kiss was still soft, still languid but it was enough to muffle Amie’s gasp of delight as he cupped, stroked and lovingly tickled her core. He had missed her noises so much, now he was rejoicing at getting to draw them all from her pretty parted lips once more. Gently she writhed beneath his caress, murmuring praise and content to let him touch her as he willed and to reacquaint himself with her most pleasurable part. He drew tight small circles over her pearl, dragged his fingers down through her folds and teased along her slit.

Cullen would have been happy to spend all night on his knees, mapping out her body with his hands but Amie captured his bottom lip between her teeth and tugged. His eyes flicked up to meet hers and Cullen could see how they were fogged with lust, her need barely kept in check.

It appeared her patience had run out. “Bring me a towel,” she urged, panting as she rose from the bath. Crystalline droplets falling from her body, reflecting the glimmering candlelight and giving her an ethereal glow.  _ So beautiful _ he thought, transfixed till he saw her slightly shiver from the cooling water. Cullen ignored the aching throb in his too tight dress trousers and the cling of his wet shirt and collected a fluffy towel from a nearby dresser. He draped it over her shoulders, saw her nuzzle into its warmth and then helped her step from the bath. 

Still wet Amie stepped over to her vanity and selected a large plum glass bottle. “My oil,” she said. Placing it in his hands with a coy smile she then dropped her towel to the floor and spoke with an invitation. “From tip to toe if you’d be so kind.”

If Cullen had felt hard in his breeches before the crushing restriction of cloth was now almost unbearable. Every fiber of his being longed to pull her to the ground and seat himself within her enticing warmth.  _ There is no rush _ , he reminded himself. They were together again after too long parted and Amie clearly didn’t want an urgent and needy fuck  _ Not tonight _ . Tonight he was at her service.

“With pleasure.” Cullen breathed and set to the next phase of his work. All but salivating at the sight and touch of her skin as he began to smother her hands and arms in the oil that carried her familiar scent.

After her arms he moved onto her shoulders and back. At each press and glide of his palms over her sensual body his fears faded. Touch was good, not something to be feared. Amie’s happy hums at the attention he lavished upon her was proof enough of that.

He swept over the swell of her hips and around her narrow waist. Then around and over her breasts, her nipples still peaked from his earlier teasing. Then lower, around her tender cheeks and between her soft thighs. Then lower still. Kneeling on the floor again he massaged down one long leg, then placing her heel on his bent thigh did the same to the other. His withdrawals were all long forgotten at the sight and feel of her slick body. Soft, limber and malleable to his touch.

With her legs slightly parted and with his head at just the right height it was too tempting not to worship her as he had missed. Holding her steady Amie moaned as he flicked his tongue forward. Tasting how her arousal, the fragrant bathwater and soothing oils all complemented her flavor. He licked a few more times before deepening his adoration of her with a hot wet kiss over her pearl.

“Oh Maker.” Amie praised, as he lapped at her folds and nipped her clitoris. Tugging and teasing it and feeling triumphant when her body started to move of its own accord. Wanting more he shifted her leg up and over his shoulder. His hands supported her more fully as he dove back between her thighs to feast on her pretty cunt. She was so wet for him already it was the most natural thing in the world to slip one of his long digits into her entrance.

“Commander!” She called out at the intrusion. Her hands found their way into his hair again as she wriggled against his face and the stimulating digit. When Cullen glanced up he saw Amie's eyes. Dark with desire as he worked his finger in and out of her tight channel. Still watching the beauty above him as her lashes began to flutter closed. _She is close_ he thought with self satisfaction.

Amie moaned then uttered a quiet “Stop.” 

Cullen did so at once and stood to his full height, still supporting her trembling body.

“Amie, what’s wrong?”

She chuckled breathlessly “You’re still in your wet clothes and I want this to last.” She said with a soft kiss, tasting herself on his tongue.

Cullen prepared to protest and fall to his knees again.

“Please.” She urged gently. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

He rubbed his forehead against hers “Very well. You are a demanding mistress aren’t you.” She giggled and he felt his scarred scarred lip twisted into a wry grin at her joy. “You have no idea. Now-” His shirt was striped away at once but her hands hesitated when they rested on the tightly laced fastening to his pants. “Is this ok?” She questioned, gently palming the bulge that twitched under her tentative touch.

“Maker yes” he rasped. His own hands held onto her waist and stroked along her sides, encouraging without being demanding.

Amie’s fingers were quick as she loosened the complicated knots that held the form fitting pants in place. Her hands slid beneath his waistband and dropping to her knees she slid the fine fabric down his muscled legs.

Cullen had to stifle a moan as his iron length sprang free and filled with more blood. Amie saw it all and licked her lips. He wouldn't last long if she took him into her throat here.

With a gentle press against thighs she urged. “Go and sit on the bed.”

Cullen, breathing hard and body coiling in anticipation did as she asked. Settling himself comfortably on crisp sheets and the plush padded headboard. She climbed up after him, her hips and breasts swaying as she kissed up his calves, then his knees, then his broad thighs… She gave a teasing flick of her tongue over the weeping tip of his erect cock, Cullen groaned at the action and the electric like pleasure it gave him.

Cullen had to fight the urge to grasp her beautiful hair once more and push her skillful mouth where he wanted it. Her captivating eyes stilled his sinful thoughts and she watched him intently as she instead straddled his hips, settling her weight over him. She observed him closely, looking for the discomfort he expressed last time they were intimate.

“Is this alarming you at all?” She asked as she rolled her hips over his trapped erection. Her wet slit coating him in her arousal.

“No.” He replied at once, threading his hand into her still damp hair and pulling her lips towards his. The kiss was hard but not demanding. Cullen tried to express his earnestness without words. Tried to say  _ I trust you. _

“Tell me to stop if you need to.”

With her hands gripping tightly onto his shoulders she kneeled upwards and finding the perfect angle, slowly impaled herself onto his rock hard length. His swollen tip pushed through her initial tight ring of muscle, before the rest of his ridged shaft was edged into her cunt.

Cullen wanted to slip his eyes shut and throw his head back at the all encompassing tidal wave of sensuality and pleasure that washed over him. But he was too enraptured at the sight of Amie’s face as she seated his engorged cock deeply within her. She chewed her bottom lip, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she adjusted to his thick girth. At last she gave a little whimper and rocked her hips tentatively. Cullen could feel even from that tiny action how tightly her walls were gripping him, how delicious the friction of their meeting felt.

With a steadying breath her hands found purchase on his shoulders, her intoxicating body lifted up, her hips tilted just so and then with a gasp from her and grunt from him they were joined again.

“Oh Commander,” she moaned as he filled her so completely. Rising and falling with a snake like roll of her hips while Cullen could only sit and accept all the sensations she was gifting him.

Cullen was in a paradise. Her weight, rather than feeling restrictive was grounding and familiar. The feel of her hips in his hands as he helped guide her sinful movements,  _ up and down, in and out _ was hypnotizing. The sight of her breasts gently swaying with her movements and only inches away from his face, was too tempting. So he started to suckle and nip at each heavy mound in turn and loved the startled gasp and jump in pace the action afforded her. 

Her pace was torturously slow as she worked his cock with her tight cunt. 

This was not at all what he had come to fear from relinquishing control. Amie was fucking him yes. But it was soft and slow and as loving as she was. Cullen praised the Maker for bringing him this sight, and cursed his foolishness for having it take him this long.

Cullen’s hands slid onto the swell of her ass, taking a firmer hold and spreading her cheeks he started to guide her movements with more intensity. His hips thrusting up from the mattress, matching her pace and meeting her body with more force. He felt as if he were piercing deeper each time. 

“You look so beautiful above me,” Cullen breathed his confession. Fascinated, he started to catalog the little expressions on her face depending on the angle on speed with which he penetrated her. Still her body moved over him, her chest bouncing rhythmically before his eyes and making him groan from the voyeuristic sight.

_ Harder and faster. _ Their breaths were shared in kisses of dominance.  _ Tight and hot. _ Her breasts and neck were now covered in beautiful little marks. He loved the mewls she gave when he latched onto her nipple and pulled. He did the same to the other, then slapped the flesh of her arse relishing in the pleasured cry each action drew from her.

_ Passionate and fervent and more. More. _

“Amie I can’t hold back.” Cullen sobbed as his hips began thrust up violently into her encompassing heat. His arms banded tightly across the narrowness of her waist to keep her close and he began rut with abandon, his mind lost to her body and chasing the sensations only she could give him.

“You don’t need to.  _ Oh Cullen!”  _ She cried, throwing her head back and bouncing on his cock. 

_ Cullen? I must have misheard her _ he thought as her walls started to constrict about his iron length robbing him of reason. 

“ _ Cullen,”  _ she moaned again. Her panting breaths punctuated with cries that only became louder and he had to fight to keep her pinned against his chest. He held so tight as he mined her for his pleasure. “Cullen!” There was no mistaking it the third time. Cullen groaned, his whole being shuddering as his hips faltered in their pace and his vision blanked. 

It was a rapture. There was nothing but the feel of her spine arching deeply. The orgasmic release of his seed filling her. The cry of his name echoing like a prayer. 

_ “CULLEN!”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for you lovely comments last time. It kept me going when I was worried writing this chapter.  
> I hope I got the balance of plot and porn okay. Next time I'm just going to go full shameless haha!


	10. Philosophy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi... this chapter wasn't supposed to exist. But I needed some fluffy comfort smut so here we go!!!
> 
> cw: very nsfw art below!

Amie woke when the room was just starting to brighten. 

Even before she opened her eyes a little smile pulled at her lips at the solid warm weight which lay beside her. There was no forgetting just who was in her bed or what had transpired the evening prior. 

_ Cullen. _ His body, his words, his actions were seared onto her mind. Even now the place where his hand rested on top of her thigh tingled pleasantly. She had purposefully left the curtains open during the night, having learned enough about her guest during their time together in Skyhold to know that he didn’t enjoy closed spaces. Now she was grateful, as in the cool violet early light the shapes of her lover came into focus.

He was still sleeping soundly. His hair, loosened of it’s usual fixed style, was instead a tangle of short curls. She had seen him sleep on a few occasions, usually before she slipped away and was always amazed with how much younger his face looked. His lips slightly parted, his breathing deep and regular. Although, she noted sadly, that despite what she assumed had been a fitful nights’ rest he still had purple bruise like rings beneath his eyes.

“Oh Commander.” She murmured softly as she regarded the permanently etched lines of worry sewn onto his face. They were slightly softened from the night before when she had found him trembling and nervous amongst his ‘admirers’. She had seen him ferocious as a lion, as frustrated as a hornet and as lustful as a stallion but never, never had she seen him scared. It had been heartbreaking.  _ When will he tell me the truth of it? _ She thought with rising concern, then remembered her place. He didn't owe her an answer. Whatever burden he was carrying was his to bear unless he chose to share it. Instead she would pray for him and hope that in time that he would be able to confide in her.

Sitting up she wiped the sleep from her eyes and considered what was to be done about him, them,  _ us together _ .

She could no longer pretend this was a platonic physical relationship only. She could no longer use the excuse that he cared more for the Inquisitors attention than her own.

She could no longer think of him as just the Commander…

“Cullen,” She breathed. The name was pleasant on her tongue and as if he heard it through his dreams she heard a little pleased rumble reverberate in his chest.

There was definitely no pretending on her part anymore. 

In order to gather her thoughts she slipped from the bed to find a robe. Her bare feet padded silently over the thick pile carpets, her still nude body painted in the pale yellows of the early morning rays that filtered into the room. At her vanity she selected a crisp white linen robe which felt a little stiff from it’s last starching. It would have to do. She draped it over her shoulders and once belted loosely at the waist she examined her reflection.

“Cullen,” she hissed quietly as she saw the multitude of pink marks across her neck and throat. Well there was no doubt she would have to wear a high necked dress today. Normally she would have treated the faint bruises immediately but she found, with a slight blush as she noticed a mark near the swell of her breasts, that she didn’t mind in the slightest. 

Normally she would have felt such attention on her person, then again considering just how distracting he had been it was unsurprising it went unnoticed. Amie had been close to finding release in the bath. His hands that had been so gentle in her hair were then applied to devastating effect to her core. That along with the way his lips and tongue had worked the sensitive spots on her neck.  _ And then! _ She thought with glee and an unconcealed smile, he had knelt before her. Even in wet clothes he had been determined to please her. Amie bit her lip as she ran a comb through her tangled waves. His inadvertent edging had been such a heady experience.  _ Maker I hope he lets me do that again. _

So then, when they were finally joined together, when she did finally give herself fully over to his care it had been so transcendent an experience...well there was no wonder she hadn’t noticed his kisses littering her with marks.

Satisfied with her appearance for now Amie crossed again to the bed. Cullen stirred when she sat alongside his elongated form.

His eyelids fluttered and then shining golden eyes peered up at her with confusion. “You-you’re here?”

Amie replied fondly “I am, were you expecting someone else?”

“N-no it’s just you have never stayed before.”

“That’s true… but then we are in my room,” she said with a smirk.

Cullen sat bolt upright at once, the thin bed sheet exposing his chest. “I- Maker. I’m so sorry I should never have presumed-”

“Commander-” She stalled his hasty escape from the bed with a palm on his shoulder and leaned into his broad frame. “Hush.”

The brush of her lips against his was soft and gentle. Little more than a hello. But with a quiet moan of appreciation Cullen deepend the kiss. His fingers thread into her soft hair, his tongue licked into her mouth. She could kiss this man for days and never be satisfied.

“Mnnn.” She moaned with remorse as she pulled herself away. He chased her lips as they retreated and his golden irises shone with affection.

“And in another first we have had sex in  _ my _ bed.”

“Yes.” His expression softened and he dropped his eyes, a pink blush on his cheeks.

Amie swatted his arm playfully. “Commander, last night you had your fingers, tongue and cock inside me. There is no way I am going to believe you are now shy.”

Much to her delight Cullen’s cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of crimson. “Maker’s Breath woman. Don’t just come out with it.”

She now openly giggled at his discomfort and once again leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“How are you going to stop me?” She challenged leadingly.

“I - I-” he stammered.

“You can't, can you?” With a feigned sigh of disappointment Amie made to move off the bed. “I should go now, throw that balcony door open and proclaim to all the world that Commander Rutherford has a magnificent C-”

Her declaration was interrupted with a scream as she found herself suddenly flipped over onto her back. His naked body, pressed into her soft curves and caged her. “Comm- mmph!” Again her protest was cut short but this time by his kiss, hard and silencing.

She tried to wriggle beneath him, her hands clawing at the bedsheets to find leverage to free herself but he sensed her intent and gathered her wrists up above her head. Still he crushed his lips against hers. Her little mewls softened to a moan and the fight eventually fell out of her limbs as she succumbed to the temptation of his kisses.

Once limp Cullen drew back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’ll do no such thing.”

Her kiss swollen lips tilted up into a smile. “I will do no such thing Commander,” she agreed.

Releasing her wrists Cullen’s hand came to cup her cheek. “You called me by my name last night.”

Amie conceded, “I did...Another first.” He hummed in approval and they shared another soft kiss.

“I want more firsts with you.” He murmured against her ear, dipping his head to kiss at her throat.

“Cullen,” she moaned and felt his hard cock throb against her thigh at the sound of his name.

“Oh Amie.” He breathed happily in response, sitting back onto his heels to admire her flushed complexion and loose hair flecked with streaks of gold.

“More firsts-” he said with a smirk. “Starting with morning sex.”

“Yes,” Amie rasped as he dragged his finger down the V at the front of her robe. Her head she cushioned back onto her feather down pillow while he, with agonizing slowness, tugged at the belt around her waist. Once loosened he peeled back each side of her robe and bared her for his inspection.

Her nipples peaked in the slight chill from the morning air. Her skin, cleaned and pampered the night prior refracted the lights’ rays softly. “Maker, you get more beautiful every time I see you.” 

Cullen took his time as he explored her body and Amie lavished in his attentions. His hands slid the top of her robe a little way each off her shoulders and his broad nude body crowded over hers.

Reverently he pressed a butterfly kiss to each and every mark he had left the night prior. 

He was slow and careful as every spot marked or otherwise was caressed with his lips and licked with his tongue. Travelling down her body he palmed each breast in turn, holding it while he suckled her nipples and tugged at them with his teeth.

“Ah!” Amie arched her back to be closer to him, the action grinding her hips against his muscled thigh. Feeling feverish she continued to rock against him while he revered every part of her. Her desire and the urgency of her need for him rising with each blissful second.

“Cullen, please!” She cried with desirous delirium.

With a groan at her use of his name Cullen shifted himself back onto his heels.

He pulled one of her long legs up and rested it against his sculpted shoulder. Her core, glistening from her arousal was now revealed to him and he eagerly stimulated the little bud of her pleasure. Fingers quick and deft circled and caressed her clit till she was begging while Cullen studied her every expression with rapt concentration. Her eyes slid open and she saw him watching her. Taking in every inch of her form in the light of the early day. His eyes were dark and hungry as he worked her for his own enjoyment. His cock twitched with excitement every time she said his name or her body shivered from the pleasure he was inducing.

He was magnificent. Golden hair, halo like from the light’s rays behind him. His body toned and thick with muscle, his cock, erect and crowned with a little bead of his own desire.

Amie gasped at the seductive sight and bucked her hips “Mercy Cullen,” she sobbed impatiently. With an eager grunt Cullen pulled her body down the bed towards him. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders and onto the pillow behind her. 

“Yes!” She hissed as she felt the engorged tip of his shaft stroke along her slit. Her hips rolling, searching for him  _ please, just there, closer _ .

With a strong sure thrust Cullen pushed through her folds and sheathed himself deeply within her heat. Amie’s body at once clenched around the sudden intrusion. “Fuck” He uttered with a gasp, the curse falling from his lips only fueling her lust. It felt good,  _ so, so good _ to have him inside her once more.  _ It always feels good… better with him _ her entranced mind began to process. Till he started to move and any reflective thoughts fled under the onslaught of pleasure.

Slowly he pulled his length from her body before, with a sharp snap of his hips, she was impaled on his sex again. Gentle and soft strokes punctuated with hard and demanding thrusts. Steadily, rhythmically he took her. His hand found her apex once more and he began to apply a building, delicious pressure against her clit that had her panting within moments. 

“Amie.” Cullen rasped as her body began to move without conscious thought. Her hips rose to match each thrust, she grasped and massaged her breast with one hand, while the other held her knee and kept her legs spread wide.

Cullen’s abs flexed as he fucked her deeply. What had been a relatively steady place soon transformed into a desperate and primal clash of their bodies.

One moment he would look down at her jolting body, her breasts bouncing softly, lips parted in a permanent expression of desire. Then overwhelmed from that sight he would focus on their joining. On how his cock glistened from her slick, on how good she looked spread wide, exposed and then filled by his rampant cock. Cullen groaned at the sight. Slipped his eyes closed for a beat and then like an addicted voyeur watch her once more.

Amie didn’t see any of this. She was lost to the feel of his rapid penetrations and talented fingers. The heat and pressure that had been building within her all morning began to bubble over. Her back arched like a bow and her vision blanked. Her whole being felt suspended in time as white hot pleasure seized her very soul. “Cullen!” She cried, just as she had done the night before, just as her body pulsed around the pistoning steel within her as if to squeeze out the last shreds of her pleasure.

Abandoning her clit Culled scooped his free arm underneath the arched small of her back. Holding her close his hips hammered out a staccato rhythm as he drove into her constricting cunt. Amie could only shudder as the aftershocks of her release were prolonged by his desperate movements. Till with a guttural grunt of satisfaction and broken cry of her name she felt his length pulse within her. His spend, hot and virile filling her channel.

\---

A gentleman at heart Cullen stood when she entered the small dining room being used by the Inquisitions inner circle as a breakfast parlor. “Lady Amie,” he greeted smoothly, smirking at the twinkle in her eye as she replied to him in a perfectly unaffected tone. 

“Commander.” She arched her brow as he pulled out a chair for her. Perhaps he was going a little overboard but Cullen couldn't remember a time he had ever felt quite so drunk on _ Love? Far too early for that _ he chastised himself...And if his heart thudded happily he chose to ignore it. 

There was no denying there was a very real, if still a little uncertain understanding between them. Cullen took a seat beside her and like an excitable school boy held her hand beneath the table.  _ Maker,  _ when was the last time he had ever felt this  _ young. _

“Commander you look well,” Dorian quipped from across the table. Cullen reluctantly glanced over at his Altus friend, before not so subtly shifting his eyes back to Amie. “Yes I slept rather well-” He couldn't hide the humor that permeated his tone, or fail to delight in the ever pinkening cheeks of the woman who had captivated him. Undeterred he continued with his innuendo laced reply “and this morning's exercise was so refreshing.”

Cassandra spoke up from the book she was absorbed in. “I didn’t see you down in the yard.”

“No-” He squeezed Amie’s thigh with meaning “-I took some personal instruction.”

The Courtesan giggled into her napkin but when she saw all eyes had turned to her the laugh became a cough.

“Ah forgive me, seems this particular blend of tea disagrees with me.”

Across the table from them Cullen saw Bull give him a small thumbs up.

They both lingered in the breakfast room till the other members of the Inquisition had departed to their rooms. Amie, meandered over to a large bay window and beckoned him with little tilt of her head. Where they were now stood they had a view of the Inquisition’s mounts being saddled up in the courtyard but a large draped curtain concealed them from the view of the servants.

“So you are not returning with us?” Amie asked.

The discussion over breakfast had all been about the upcoming mission in Northern Orlais. He should have told her himself in the privacy of their morning but he didn't want to tarnish the stolen moment of peace. Instead he now laced his ungloved fingers in with hers and kissed the back of her hand.

“It is imperative I find Samson. His madness must be stopped.”

“I understand Commander.” She replied, resigned but content to let herself be pulled into his embrace.

“Amie, I loathe to leave you.” He whispered as they brushed their foreheads together.

“And I you.” 

“I can’t believe I won’t get to hear your sweet voice for a month.”

Amie hummed and seemed thoughtful as they stood wrapped up in each other.

“Bull is accompanying you correct?”

“Yes, why.”

“Hmm. When you get to the Merlot estate ask Bull to borrow his crystal. He will know what you mean.”

“I-why?”

“Trust me,” She purred and with a gentle tug pulled his lips to hers.

“I wish we had more time.” He spoke between their passionate goodbye.

“We will.” Amie tried to sooth him as his hands around her waist gripped tighter and he breathed deeply of her scent. As if the act of drowning himself in her embrace would be enough to hold back the inevitable shrill ringing of the departure bell.

They had to talk when he returned. They had to see if whatever was between them was something tangible. For now though his mind had to be focused on the mission. And the mission only.

At the second bell he finally released his hold of her. Amie’s eyes were shining with unshed tears.

“Do try to look after yourself Commander...” she said brushing her hand down his cheek. “Cullen. Please.”

Cullen arrived in Orlais full of anxiety and dread. He left with a heart full of hope and a head full of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to everyone who enjoys, has subscribed or left comments on this fic.  
> Your ongoing support is the greatest motivation in the world xx


	11. Poetry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just because Amie and Cullen are parted don't think that will stop them XD

The Carriage rumbled along the now well traveled road that brought the high and mighty of the Empire over the Frostbacks to Skyhold. Amie, with the blinds up delighted in the changing scenery as the highly managed forests and gardens of Orlais gave way to the increasingly wild and dramatic sights the further they journeyed from Civilization.

The air soon lost the bitterness that clung around cities. The tanneries and ever present unsavory smell of the sewers being the primary culprits. Now there was nothing but the occasional waft of smoke from a woodsman’s cottage or the woody scent of a freshly fallen tree. 

Amie may have once laughed at herself for hanging her head out of a window like an eager Mabari, but she was enjoying it too much to care. Instead she breathed deeply, filling her lungs with cleansing air and allowing her hair, free of a covering for once to whip about naturally in the crisp breeze.

After taking her fill of the countryside she settled back onto the chaise and looked over at her travelling companions.

“I thought Yvette looked very well at the ball,” she addressed Josephine.

The Ambassador gave a small but definitely proud smile as only an older sibling can. 

“Yes, although she asked some impertinent questions to the Inquisitor she was on the whole remarkably behaved.” Josephine studied her folded hands in her lap and was thoughtful. “Now that our dealings with the Du Paraquettes are resolved it will soon be time to secure her a match.”

“You have time yet Josie.” Leliana spoke up from her position alongside her friend. 

“I agree,” Amie chimed. “Let her have a few more years of fun before you intervene, she may even find someone of her own accord.”

“Perhaps, there is definitely something to be said for having certain life experiences before one chooses to settle.”

The twinkle in Josephine’s eye was too marked to be missed. Even all the way in the city the Courtesan had kept herself informed of the gossip at Skyhold. The esteemed Ambassador and noble Grey Warden certainly made an attractive couple, although Amie suspected from the ever slight downturn of her friends’ lips that no serious attachment would be able to come from it.

Suddenly Josephine clapped her hands “As we are speaking of romance I have to say I was delighted to see our handsome Commander escort  _ you _ from the ball.”

Amie laughed and slightly blushed “Were you now?”

“It certainly played in our favor. Up until that point he had been so stalwart in his refusals to dance and entertain the other guests that people were quite sure he had no interest in physical relations at all.” Amie had to fight to hold her tongue.  _ Cullen, not interested in physical relations? _ She almost scoffed.

Josephine continued unaware of her friends’ silent amusement. “But in leaving with you he showed himself to be amenable to relationships. I had half a dozen inquiries about his lineage in the first fifteen minutes of your departure.”

Amie tried to sound unaffected but there was definite bitterness in her reply. “Poor Commander. I am not sure he likes the attention.”

Josephine waved her hand dismissively. “He has broad shoulders, I'm confident he can bear the scrutiny of a few interested parties. And I have to say I was proud of him. For a while he seemed quite stuck on the Inquisitor. Do you think he may ask for your favor again?”

Amie’s lips twitched slightly and Leliana may have surreptitiously looked her way. The Courtesan was well aware that the Nightingale already knew all about their somewhat unorthodox affair.

“I couldn’t possibly say.”

Josephine tutted. “You and your rules.”

_ My rules _ . Amie thought with sadness. A little stung at the thought of the Commander and the dozens of ‘offers of interest’. Then dressed in finery, vowing to love his chosen partner till the Maker came for their souls…There was no doubt in her mind he would make someone a very happy wife one day.

But she had her  _ rules, _ and her role, and one day fate willing her school and that would be enough.  _ Please let it be enough _ . She dare not hope for a pretty wedding day for herself, for children in her life, save those she taught or for a loving husband with golden eyes.

So for now at least Amie was resolved to make the most of Cullen’s time, for as long as he was willing to bestow it. And try to not dwell on the tempting marriage offers and how soon any engagement thereof could be expected.

* * *

  
  


When Amie had departed Skyhold for Orlais the rest of the nobility had followed suit. The Inquisitor was away on missions, there was little entertainment and anybody with any influence was of course invited to the peace talks themselves.

So when she returned she was pleased to see that at least for a little while she would have more time for herself and less for her courtly duties. After bathing away the grime from the road her first stop was to see Mother Gisele, who was delighted to have her back and willing to teach the children once more. 

Her days would be pleasantly occupied for the foreseeable future and as for her nights... Although there was expected to be a trickle of well wishers and potential new Patrons now they had the support of Empress Celene herself, with the Inquisitor away and many benefactors staying on in Orlais for another month or so there would be no need to ‘entertain’ any guests privately.

That filled Amie with a swell of relief. Whatever was between her and Cullen. Whether it was just a trifling distraction for him or something more… She couldn’t bring herself to betray his trust in her. At the very least she needed to discuss their arrangement with him first. She owed him that. And wished she had known the night before his departure that he was to be away. She would have remained awake and found the time to compose a letter to try and express her uncertain feelings.

_ Letters, yes.  _ She thought, distracting herself with a trip up to the rookery to see if any correspondence had arrived in her absence.

There was a thick looking letter that had been left by her brother before his own departure back to the Free Marches. She collected it with thanks but had no intention of ever opening it. There were a variety of pastel colored and heavily perfumed envelopes containing information from her most reliable correspondents and, most unusually a tiny slip of paper, with the inquisition seal still intact.

Curious, she opened the missive at once.

_ Treasured Amie, _

_ We’ve only been apart for three days. Already it feels like three lifetimes.  _

_ C _

Amie flushed as she re-read the note. She had not vouched on her Commander being a poet but the simple expression, written out in his own hand had released a flurry of butterflies in her stomach. Two sentences, it seemed, were enough to make her forget all about his noble suitors.

Clearing her throat she addressed the scout on standby in Leliana’s stead.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes Lady Courtesan?.”

“How soon do you expect the Inquisitor and her part to reach the Merlot estate?”

The scout looked at a coded chart laid out before her. “They are scheduled to arrive tomorrow afternoon and will remain the evening. Do you wish to send a Raven?”

“Thank you but no. You should save your birds for important matters.” Amie gave a small curtsy and then with eagerness in every step skipped away to find Dorian.

  
  


\---

  
  


Cullen loved any excuse to travel. 

However for the past year his position as Commander had meant he was obligated to remain at Skyhold, bound to his desk and his duties. It had been too long since he had felt the wind in his hair or ridden a horse for more than the length of time it took to descend into the valley for drills. Definitely too long. And so even the journey to the Winter Palace, for all he loathed the necessity for the ball itself, had been a blessed opportunity to test his horsemanship once more, to stretch his legs and visit some of the outposts he had only ever seen marked on his maps. 

This leg of their journey, as they wound their way along dusty roads and breathed in the ever warmer climes of Northern Orlais, should have given as much if not more enjoyment than the first. But this time, even with all the necessity of Samson’s capture as a just inducement Cullen found he lamented every mile that took him further away from Amie. 

_ Amie. _

What had been shaping up to be one of the worst nights of his existence, and he had had many, many, an awful night to draw comparison with had been redeemed. Indeed it had become quite possibly the best evening of his recent memory. 

_Soft hair, gentle caresses beneath the waters edge that draw gasps from her lips._ _Kneeling, giving, serving_ and the satisfaction it brought him. Her being in control wasn’t the same as _that_ harrowing time. And he could silently confess to himself that he should very much like to be at her mercy again. Right now he was leagues away from her, but even the thought of her body, sensuous and glowing in the candle light above him and taking her pleasure from him was enough to stir his arousal. If his cheeks had flushed slightly he hoped his companions could attribute it to the stronger sun in this part of the world and not his unchaste thoughts.

Their morning together had been even more heartening. It felt domestic, normal even to hold her hand beneath the table and joke with her. To not blush or be embarrassed when his friends and colleagues alluded to their affair. To draw her into a hidden nook and kiss her softly and without the hungry desperation that so often coloured their earliest encounters.

“Daydreaming again Boss?” Bull’s gravel tones cut through his reverie. It was the third such barb made by his travelling companions and he saw the Inquisitor roll her eyes.

“I do not daydream.” Came his automatic and somewhat curt reply, while he fixed his face with a look of studious disinterest on the road ahead. 

Varric sensing his chance to join in with his teasing spoke up from his stocky pony where he rode alongside Cassandra.

“Daydream is a trite expression, plus our Commander is thirty not thirteen.” The dwarf scratched his stubbled chin as he often did when writing. “How about engaging in pleasant reflections?”

Despite himself Cullen’s scarred lip tugged up at the suggestion. 

“Perhaps.” Was his leading reply. 

He was then only too happy to remain silent while Varric entertained their little caravan with anecdotes on writing and his time in Kirkwall. And if he allowed his mind to once again engage in ‘pleasant reflections’ his companions were either none the wiser or wisely chose not to comment.

This was their fifth day of travel. 4 nights they had been camping at inquisition sites where he had been able to catch up with messages from his captains and send notes of his own. On the third night he had been so bold as to send a note to Amie, he hoped she didn’t mind him being so forward. But as they hadn’t yet had the chance to talk he wanted to show her that she was still at the forefront of his mind. 

Two more days travel and they could expect to reach their destination at the Shrine of Dumat but tonight they were to stay with a newly secured ally. 

Lord Merlot was a younger man with dark hair and tanned skin and his wife beside him looked as pale and fragile as a doll.

“Welcome Inquisition,” she said in a polite but bored voice. “As Celene’s long time supporters it is our honor to host you this evening. Please allow the servants to show you to your rooms, dinner will be served shortly.”

In the dining room, panelled with bleached wood and family portraits, Cullen found himself seated next to Lord Merlot. Merlot fancied himself a man of action and so revelled in the chance to speak to renowned Knight-Captain and famous General. Their conversation was pleasant enough although Cullen scoffed at his boasting prowess when it was evident, with his trained eye that the man didn’t have a single scar on the back of his hands. Even Cassandra was littered with pale white scars and no one was a better swordsman than her.

Lord Merlot’s voice dropped to a murmur and he spoke directly to Cullen. “Lady Amie is a member of your court correct?”

He frowned a little confused. “That’s right.”

“Ah, a-and how is she?” His host replied with a look of meaning. Cullen eyed the young gentleman with more scrutiny now. An unpleasant wave of jealousy washing over him.

He replied in a clipped tone that came out as more of a snarl. “Well.”

Varric had somehow overheard their terse exchange and intervened for politeness’ sake. “What the Commander means to say is Lady Amie is a treasured member of the Inquisition.”

Lady Merlot’s eyes snapped up at the name and she fixed her husband with a look of warning.

_ Oh. I see. _

Cullen didn’t say another word all evening.

He declined to join the Inquisitor, Varric and their hosts in the salon. Instead he retired down the corridor to his assigned room, still stinging from the painful reminder of Amie’s career.  _ I thought I had beaten this _ , he lamented internally. Here he was brooding full of ugly jealousy when he should be focused on the task at hand. In two days time they would reach the Shrine of Dumat and finally take down Samson. His hand lingered on his door handle,  _ yes that has to be my only objective from now on _ . 

“Boss?” 

“Maker! Why is it always you.” He started uncharacteristically at Bulls’ interrupting slap on the shoulder.

“You forgot this.”

Bull pressed a large silver locket strung on a long thick chain into his hands.  _ Ask Bull to borrow his crystal _ she had said at his departure and he,  _ like a simpleton, _ had forgotten her one instruction.

A spring loaded clasp popped open the locket revealing a large emerald coloured crystal within.

“What is this?” Cullen asked confused, the lingering trace of lyrium in his veins detecting a faint magical aura.

“It’s a way to talk and don’t ask me how it works because I don’t know. All I know is that the other side has to activate it.”

“Other side-” Suddenly the pulsing magical energy felt stronger in his palm and the dull crystal began to pulse with an inner green light “Makers Breath!”

Cullen stepped into his room, waving goodbye to Bull and locked his door. 

The flickering light from the crystal began to stabilize till the whole room was bathed in its oddly soothing green glow.

_ “Have fun now you two.” _ He heard a disembodied voice filter into the room.

_ “Thanks Dorain, see you in the morning.” _

_ Impossible _ “Amie? I- Is that you?” He asked incredulously.

_ “Cullen? You remembered. Yes it’s me!”  _ Came her cheery reply.

“That..how?? This is incredible!” Any of the bitter thoughts that had been lingering or concern for their upcoming mission fled at the overwhelming surge of joy he felt at hearing her sweet voice.

_ “Isn’t it? Dorian is quite frankly a genius of this Age. He’ll be wasted whenever he decides to return to the Imperium.” _

Cullen pulled the crystal up to his face, as if he would be able to feel her warmth through its cold hard exterior. He could hear her breathing, hear the rustle of fabrics as she talked a little about her day.

_ “But i didn't arrange this to talk about our friend.” _

“Amie,” he said softly letting himself bathe in the affection that coloured her words.

_ “Cullen, I miss you. So much.” _

“I miss you too.” He confessed without hesitation.

_ “Oh and I got your note. Thank you, it meant the world to me.” _

Cullen smiled, he was happy his gesture hadn’t been in vain. “It was my pleasure, I only wish I had the means or the time to write more.”

_ “I feel the same. If I’d known you were leaving I- There’s things I need to say to you Cullen.” _

“Save them.” Maker knew there were things they had to discuss but he didn’t want to taint any of this precious time with his complicated feelings. She was here, speaking to him unreservedly and that was all that mattered now.

Amie took a thoughtful moment of silence, then spoke up with apparent mischief.

_ “So, have you touched yourself to the memory of our night together yet? _ ”

Cullen chuckled, “Andraste preserve me woman!

_ “That’s not an answer,” _ she laughed.

“I have not. We are travelling and the tents are rather indiscrete.”

She hummed.  _ “You are in chateau Merlot now correct?” _

“Yes,” he said, choosing to ignore her use of the name. 

_ “And it has thick stone walls, with added wooden panelling in the rooms.” _

Her description was accurate, she had visited before but it couldn’t tarnish the building excitement he was starting to feel at her sultry tone. “It does.” 

_ “And you are quite alone?” _

“Completely,” he breathed. Hanging on every one of her words in anticipation.

_ “Well that is fortunate. I am completely alone also. In fact I have just retired to my room for the evening.” _

“Oh?”

_ “Indeed, I have only now slipped into my night wear.” _

She paused then and Cullen gulped at her silent challenge. Feeling suddenly too warm he briefly placed the crystal pendant down on the sideboard and stripped his jacket and shirt from his body. 

“Tell me what you are wearing Amie,” he demanded as he strode over to his bed.

_ “Tonight I’m wearing green. The same shade as the glow from this crystal in fact.” _

“Describe it,” he growled as he sat down on the mattress and fumbled with the laces on his breeches. It was proving difficult to loosen them single handedly as the lacings were stretched tight over the hard bulge developing there.

_ “My negligee is largely see through but for a few very conveniently embroidered leaves and flowers. The effect is quite lovely, I almost look naked.” _

Cullen heard the shifting of her mattress through the crystal and groaned at the mental image. Hair and skin the same colour as bright summer leaves in the refracted glow from the soothing light. She would look ethereal and beguiling like some mythological nymph.

The knot on his breeches finally loosened Cullen slipped his hand and grasped his hard erection. The relief was instant, but not enough.

“Are you on your bed?”

_ “I am.” _

Cullen panted as he palmed his length. “T-touch yourself and tell me what you're doing.”

With a pleased moan Amie began to describe in detail the way she now pleasured herself.

_ “I’m lying back on my bed, the crystal is beside me so I can use both hands.” _

Cullen stood to strip away the remainder of his covering and he too laid on his back but he kept a tight hold of the chain, afraid to let go of the crystal for fear her voice would vanish.

_ “I’m trailing one hand over my throat, my skin is so sensitive there. It’s pale now, I miss seeing your marks in the mirror when I dress.” _

Cullen began to stroke himself slowly in time with the breathy sighs which punctuated her speech.

_ “My other hand I am using to cup and squeeze my breasts, they do feel fantastic in this silk although-” _ She gave a sultry moan which made Cullen’s cock throb.  _ “Touching my nipples beneath the fabric feels even more divine.” _

And he could see it in his mind's eye. Her pert breasts rising and falling, one of her peaked nubs exposed as she pinched and tweaked it for her enjoyment the other hand still stroking her throat, begging for his lips against her skin. A trickle of precum fell from his tip and it added to the slick friction he was creating with his hand.

“You are doing so well my sweetheart,” he murmured. “Keep talking, keep telling me how you feel.”

_ “Mmmn, I love it when you praise me,”  _ she whispered fervently.  _ “I’m sliding the hand from my throat slowly downwards to grasp at my neglected breast.” _

“Push them together.” Cullen said, seeing her comply in his vivid imagination.

_ “They look so good like this Cullen. I wish you could see them, could feel how tightly they are pressed together. I am wearing my oils. It’s made them soft and slick, you could fuck them if you so desired.” _

Cullen’s hips bucked at the suggestion. “I would love to do that. You would look so pretty beneath me, with my spend all over your chest.”

Amie groaned and Cullen’s hand again moved in time with her increasingly ragged breathing.

_ “With one hand still on my chest I'm dragging the other lower. My fingers are sliding under the hem of my nightgown and along the hem of my panties. Would you like me to remove them?” _

“No, just push them aside.”

_ “Yes Commander.” _ The next noise he heard was a gasp followed by a delighted cry.

“Amie,” he growled in warning, he  _ needed _ her to keep talking.

_ “I-I’m so wet for you Commander, Cullen. The thought of you touching yourself alongside me, of having you fuck my breasts, or my mouth or my - ah, so good!” _

Cullen’s hand began to move faster, matching the racing beats of his heart as Amie moaned and whimpered his name through the crystal.

_ “I am going to push my finger inside now.” _

“Yes,” he gasped with a thrust of his hips into his slicked hand. His hand was now her cunt, constricting and sheathing his sex in it’s embrace.

_ “Tight and hot. Ohhh I'm soaked from my lust for you.” _

“Use another finger sweetling.” He ordered. His mind clouded with desire but for the image of her, rocking against her own hand on her bed. Of her long limbs flexing and twisting as she contorted with pleasure. Of her face, fixed with a seductive and blissful smile.

_ “Mnnn, it’s so good Cullen. But my fingers don’t fill me as well as you.” _

“You miss my cock do you?”

_ “So-so much. I love it when you take me hard and fast. Or when you are slow and sweet and I-”  _ her sinful words broke off into another moan and Cullen was scarcely less comprehensible as they begged, gasped and whispered lurid fantasies to each other.

Normally when he took himself in hand he was quick, efficient but this he wanted to prolong and she seemingly felt the same. He fucked his own fist frantically, before slowing down and then repeating. Inadvertently edging himself and walking the tightrope along the edge of his orgasm.

_ “When we see each other again how will you have me?” _

Cullen grunted “Over the nearest hard surface. And then probably on the floor, then against a wall and then I’ll finally get you into bed and worship your body till you are incoherent in your praise, before fucking you till you forget your own name. I want you full of my seed, my cock, my marks over every inch of your skin.”

Amie mewled at his talk, her tone changing and taking on an air of desperation.

_ “A- Ah Cullen I’m so close.” _

At her breathy confession Cullen’s hand started to work his cock apace. “Come for me my beautiful Courtesan, let me hear you.”

_ “Yes. Yes. oh Cullen YES!” _

His one hand gripped tightly onto the crystals chain while his whole body was seized in white hot pleasure. With a loud groan of her name he spilled himself in long, powerful ejaculations over his flexing abdomen and chiseled torso.

* * *

The green light began to flicker. Her sweet voice sounded resigned  _ “I wish we had had more time to talk.” _

“As do I.” The light began to fade.

_ “It looks like our time is up.” _ She said not even trying to mask the disappointment in her voice.

_ Tell her _ “Only for now.”

_ “Only for a little while?”  _ She sounded hopeful.

“Yes.”  _ What if you don’t come back? _ “I’ll be back soon and when I am returned we will talk and make up for lost time.”

_ “I would like that.” _

The light finally flickered out before Cullen could reply.

He pulled the locket in towards his body and held it against his heart. A wave of hope, a need to cherish and an undeniable sensation of love rooting itself firmly in his soul.

“Me too,” he whispered into the dark silence of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... how was the Thedosian phone sex? Not too jarring i hope. I may have more plans for the crystal if these experimental chapters are received positively so please do let me know if you feel comfortable enough leaving a comment. 
> 
> xxx


	12. Physiology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of death and gore

He wasn’t sure if Bull winked, or if it was just an appropriately timed blink, but it didn’t stop Cullen’s cheeks from flaring scarlet when he handed the crystal back to the mercenary the following morning. 

“The Inquisition is grateful for your hospitality.” He heard Filaur’el say as she paid the necessary compliments to their hosts. “And we would be honored to welcome you at Skyhold at your earliest convenience.”

Even the thought of Lord Merlot in his home wouldn’t dull his mood and he was sure he had a somewhat jovial expression on his face as they departed for the shrine.

“Engaging in pleasant reflections again Curly?” Varric teased from his pony.

The Inquisitor gave a quiet scoff as she had done almost every time the Courtesan had been alluded to on their journey. It seemed that their  _ relationship? Affair? Intimate acquaintance...  _ Cullen struggled to find the right words to define ‘it’, but ‘it’ certainly was displeasing to Filaur’el. He mentally shrugged off her ill-approval. There was no reason for him to tolerate her changeable heart and callous treatment of his feelings any longer, not when he thought of his kind and charitable companion back home.

“I think it’s charming.” Spoke the usually stern Cassandra in his defense, all, especially Varric, looking shocked at the Seeker's positive assessment of their romance.

Cullen was happy. The happiest he had been in over a decade.  _ We will reach the shrine soon _ . Taking Samson into custody would be difficult but he knew they possessed the element of surprise.

_ Then I will ride like the wind to get back to Amie _ , make good on his promises to bed her on every surface available and  _ try _ to put into words his growing feelings.

* * *

  
  
  


Cullen coughed so hard and for so long that he started heaving onto the dry dirt outside the Shrine’s walls.The smoke, still billowing past his hunched over form, stung his red rimmed and blood shot eyes. Wiping at them didn’t alleviate the irritation, nor did the few paltry tears that streamed forth do anything to soothe or cleanse as they travelled down his grime covered face.

Samson had escaped. Clambered out of their trap over a shield formed of his own men.  _ No, not a shield, a pyre _ .

Now as they journeyed back Cullen was numb to his surroundings. His chest rattled as he breathed. His companions urged him to rest and eat.  _ Sleep? _ He thought with scorn, it was now a torture rather than a reprieve with nightly visions of Maddox’s lifeless body added to his usual horrors. His dread and paranoia spiking, and at the same time his renewed confidence and worthiness shattered like glass. _ Weak, fragile, worthless _ . 

He was a better Knight on Lyrium. Knight-Captain Cullen had been relentless and tireless, never allowing his quarry to escape. What had Commander Cullen done but fail?

He failed to keep the Divine safe, failed to stop the Mage-Templar war, failed to protect Haven and now failed to capture his target. There could only be one reason.

_ Lyrium. _

  
  


* * *

The Courtesan along with a smaller than usual entourage of nobility had turned out on the steps to greet the returning Inquisitor. He saw her scan the crowd, looking for him. Saw her face break into an unrestrained smile when she finally caught sight of his familiar mantle and crop of golden hair. Their eyes met… and then he saw her happiness waver when instead of returning her smile he turned abruptly away .

_ Cassandra had meant to visit the forge at once _ , he thought with rising certainty,  _ there is no point in continuing this charade any longer _ .

* * *

Cullen had retired to his loft with strict instructions that he was not to be disturbed except for emergencies. He had trained his Captains well and knew they could easily continue to cover his duties while he rode out this latest wave of withdrawals in isolation. The Inquisitors orders were final, but that didn’t mean he was willing to be seen like this.

He couldn’t be seen doubting his self worth when so many relied on his confidence to lead. 

Couldn’t be seen as the walking corpse that he no doubt appeared. The rumors would spread, the risk to the Inquisition was too great.

Cullen took a quick glance in his mirror and confirmed his suspicions. His eyes were tired and sunken. Bruise like shadows encompassed the whole of the socket, he couldn't remember when he had last slept more than an hour without waking up in panic.

The images of Maddox, dead for his loyalty, had been his primary nightly terror since the shrine. But the usual horrors were still in the recesses of his mind. Desire, cruel and unwavering in her torment. Haven, burned to ash then buried in the snow, his own lifeless eyes looking back at him from a rotting pile of bodies. Even Amie wasn’t spared his paranoid clouded dreams. He thought he had beaten back his jealousy but the familiarity of Lord Merlot and the adoring crowd of nobility that surrounded her had stirred up his old inadequacies. She could lay with the finest of men. And here he was… 

He glowered at his reflected image. His grimace was severe and unwelcoming. His body marred and soul even more so. He had years of atonement ahead of him and that was too much of a burden to bestow upon one so fair.

_ Not to mention you currently look little better than a hermit,  _ he thought of his unkempt beard. So, fighting the perpetual nausea and the aching of his limbs, he stripped down to his breeches. The cooler air against his skin doing little to quell the fevered temperature which burned at every fiber of his being.

Cullen stood by a large chest of draws that doubled as his vanity and set out his tools. A bowl of highly soaped water and cloth to his right. To his left a candle cast a soft glow over his sharp razor and an unpolished mirror.

His hands shook as he dabbed the soapy cloth over his face and then unfurled his shaving razor. He tried to regulate his breathing, hoping it would quiet the tremors that impacted his delicate work… but a sudden cough brought on by the lingering Red Lyrium dust in his lungs shook his frame. Cullen threw the razor down angrily on the sideboard and watched the new cut across his cheek well up with a droplet of blood.

Despairing he laced his fingers across the back of his neck and glared at his reflection in the dulled mirror. The cut dripped, a red trail falling down his cheek before marking his chest.

“Perseverance,” he mocked himself in the mirror. Parroting back the Inquisitors words to him from earlier in the day.  As if he hadn't already been. As if her telling him to  _ endure _ would somehow cure him of his addiction or the crippling, putrid effects of withdrawals that left him weak and wretched. As if this wasn't the fifth time he had cut himself trying to shave with shaking hands.

_ Maker save me, I don’t think I can do this, _ he lamented silently.

After receiving no response to his prayer he sighed and then heard his office door open with a creak.

“I am not to be disturbed!” He barked with disdain at this unwelcome intruder. Couldn’t he be left to his misery in peace.

“Oh you’re in your bedroom? Good, I’m coming up.” Came the confident, unperturbed response.

_ No, not her. _

“Go away,” he hissed just as a neat ponytail popped up from the whole in his floor.

“No. The council have asked me to check on you.” She said nonchalantly as she continued her ascent, somehow making it look graceful in her layered maroon dress. She stood regally before him, looking over his disheveled state with a flash of concern on her porcelain face.

“Why you?” His accusation sounded pathetic even to his ears.

Amie shrugged “I can keep a secret.”

Cullen’s hands thumped loudly on the dresser as he showed his anger. The noise didn’t startle his guest even as he reeled. He was a cripple,  _ useless _ , to be locked away in this tower where he couldn't cause an unpleasant scene for their precious patrons.  _ Maker forbid they see the esteemed Lion of Fereldan for the charlatan he is _ .

“What secret?” He asked spitefully, “That I’m a failure?”

Amie’s brow furrowed in confusion, then her eyes softened as she took in his haggard form and the blood still running from his cheek. “You have a very strange perception of yourself,” she said with kindness as she approached his person.

Cullen tried to protest. “What are you-”

“Hush!” She commanded as she leaned past his naked chest to retrieve his slightly damp cloth. Amie tutted as she wiped up the blood from his chest and then dabbed gently at his cheek. Applying a gentle pressure till the cut stopped oozing.

“As far as the wider Inquisition are concerned you are having a very well earned seventy two hour fuck fest with the resident Courtesan. A reward for your victorious routing of the Red Templars.”

Cullen growled in his chest at her stark confession but found his anger dissipating in her continued presence. He raised one of his trembling hands and rested it on her arm. “I-I don’t want to cheapen you.”  _ Or what we have _ , he added silently.

Amie covered his hand with her own and for the first time since the courtyard met his eyes. She spoke with a tone of frustration. “It makes for good cover, seeing as your suffering is apparently to be kept as some great secret.”

That was his directive, but now he wasn’t so sure it was the right course of action. Amie disapproved and somehow they had come to a point where he found he relied on her judgement and cared deeply about her opinion. Her green irises bore into his tarnished gold orbs, caring and concerned and wholly unaware of the depravities of his mind of the tortures he had endured and been party to.

This had to be another of Desire’s tricks. There could be no world where she cared for him.

“I don’t want you to see me like this” he grunted and shrugged off her hand, turning to glare back at his care worn reflection.

Amie scoffed beside him. “I already have. You looked little better than this when I found you at the Winter palace.”

Against his better judgement Cullen rose to the bait. “Half naked and bloodied?”

He glanced sideways and could see the smallest hint of a smile play upon her lips. “If those witches had spent one more second harassing you then yes. Although whose blood you would have been covered with remains to be seen.”

Cullen felt his own scarred lip tug in response. She always knew how to disarm him with only her words. His smirk fell into a confused ‘O’ and his eyes widened as now Amie unceremoniously began to unlace the front of her dress. The stays falling loose across her bust to reveal a thin white chemise beneath. The fabric did little to mask the shadows that outlined her curves, or to cover the dusky peak of her nipples that even in this low light were visible to Cullen’s suddenly ravenous gaze. As she slid the over garment down to the floor her familiar twinkling pendent, nestled between her full breasts, caught his eye. His words and any further protest at her presence died on his tongue.

She placed her gown over a chair in one corner and then returned to where he was standing. Still he remained silent as she rolled up her lace cuffed sleeves. Cullen’s confusion must have been evident as she hastily replied, “Don’t fret Commander. I just don’t want to get blood on the velvet.” 

Her assurance did not stop the highly inappropriate thoughts from filtering into his consciousness or the tingling sensation in his loins. Ignoring his inner turmoil Amie reclaimed the cloth, holding it in one hand and picked up his razor in the other.

Her body was close enough for him to feel the heat radiating from her, for him to inhale the luxurious scent that clung to her hair and feel her quiet breaths as she dragged the blade skillfully down his face.

“Do you want to tell me about what happened?” She asked in a low voice, not wishing to disturb the quiet bubble of peace that had sprung up about them.

A little dumb from her caring ministrations Cullen could only gesture the negative.

“Don’t shake your head!” She chastised, pausing to wipe the soap and hairs from his blade. “Otherwise you’ll end up with a matching cut on this side.”

It was as if a wisp of the fade danced in his stomach as she worked. 

He watched her intently as she guided the razor over his cheek. 

Her ivy eyes focused even in the dim light as she took regular, steady strokes along his skin. Gliding through the coarse hair he had allowed to form effortlessly and somehow easing his burdens in the process. She would stop to wipe the blade on his cloth periodically and look him over, assessing which area of his face to clean next.

Cullen’s hands twitched by his sides. Not from tremors but from his fingers, itching in their eagerness to touch her. To glide his hands over her body as softly and reverently as she was doing to him. He had been a fool to walk away from her earlier.

When Amie next spoke it was still kindly, but concerned. “I won’t pry Commander. But is there at least  _ someone _ you can talk to about your endeavor?”

Cullen swallowed to clear his throat and spoke through suddenly dry lips. “A handful. Cassandra and the Inquisitor have been supporting me. Telling me to endure-” A wave of bitterness washed over him at the word. “As if I hadn’t already been -” before he could repeat his earlier lamentations the pinch of his ceaseless migraine cut his complaint short. Mindful of the blade close to his throat he tilted his head back, giving Amie the space she needed to work and allowing his own hand to rub at his weary eyes and to try and scrub away the pain in his skull.

Amie, patiently dragged the sharpened edge across his vulnerable neck. “Okay, what about your physical symptoms. Describe them for me.”

“Why?”

“Never mind why, give me a report Commander.”

He could do that. Just like when she set him the task of pleasing her in Orlais. It was something to focus on, to distract him from the pain and also his unhelpful awareness of her proximity.

Sighing from her touch he began. “Ah, headaches that last for hours, sometimes even days. The light sensitivity that comes with them makes it difficult to read or see.”

Amie said nothing.  _ Swipe, wipe, stroke, clean _ .

“Then there’s the nausea. I do not eat as often as I should, there is always so much work to be done. But if I am unwell anything I manage to eat... well you don’t need that describing i’m sure.”

“No, it can’t be pleasant.” She agreed and with another rinse of the cloth began to run it over his now smoothly shaven face. Cleaning away any trimmed hairs or soap residue that remained.

“And then there are the aches.” He breathed, enjoying the simple act of being cared for as she wiped the cloth over his hands, the last of the soot and grime from his travels now gone.

“Oh?” She asked while discarding the soiled rag and water on his dresser.

“It starts in my neck,” as if on queue he couldn't help but raise his arm to rub at the perpetual aching spot. Amie turned and listened to the rest of his explanation patiently. “But then spreads to every inch of my body. My muscles feel tense, my limbs stiff and unresponsive. Elfroot numbs the pain for a short while but it doesn’t treat the cause.”

“Well I might be able to help with that,” she said optimistically and taking hold of his hand pulled him towards his neatly made up bed.

With a firm hand on his shoulder she bid him to lay on his stomach and then straddled the backs of his thighs.

“Is this alarming you at all?” Amie asked with concern, remembering what she thought of as a fear of his. The reality of his ‘need to be in control’ was quite the opposite of her supposition but somehow far more shameful and he wasn’t sure if he could tell her the truth of it.  _ Not yet _ .

“N-no.”

Her hands, gentle and encouraging swept over the length of his back and then he felt the odd sensation of a few drops landing on his skin.

“Whatever you do don’t get any of this oil in your mouth,” she murmured and he heard a squeak of a vial stopper being replaced.

The physical and emotional feelings that followed Cullen struggled to define other than  _ warmth _ . 

Beginning at the back of his neck Amie’s fingers danced across his skin and sinew. Pressing firmly at times and then chasing any discomfort away with luxurious strokes of her warm, sensual hands. Cullen, tense at first, soon relaxed into the sensation as she directed her efforts at his perpetually aching shoulders. He heard a pleased groan and was surprised to find the noise had emanated from deep in his chest, Amie gave a pleased chuckle at his apparent enjoyment. A therapeutic and serene ripple began to quash the old aches along with the newer, still raw injuries to his soul. Long established pinch points of pain were massaged and soothed till the area felt renewed and somehow as light as air. Following his shoulders she worked down each of his arms and then the broad expanse of his back as a whole.

The Lyrium thirst which was still lingering was quieted by a much more enticing hunger. Her steady rhythmic ministrations with skillful hands had soon renewed Cullen’s earlier piqued arousal. The glide of slick skin, the heat and tingling pressure her fingers weaved across his back. Every sweep, every touch and caress layered up the sensations of pleasure he was feeling. And beneath him, pressing uncomfortably into the bunched blankets, his swollen cock throbbed. 

She was trying to care for him but his base desires had somehow come to the fore.  _ Maker, _ he hoped she didn’t realize how ever so subtly his body now flexed as he ground his hardness into the bed. How when he arched his back as she dragged her fingers down his spine he hissed, though not from discomfort.

“Could you turn over now.” 

_ Oh no. _ Cullen’s face was crimson as she saw the painful evidence of his arousal and he noticed her own flushed skin deepen in color.  _ What she must think of me _ “I-I’m so sorry!” He stammered out quickly praying that he hadn’t offended her by being quite so awakened by the grounding press of her body over him, or the commanding way in which she had worked him into a malleable clay of electrified nerves.

“Cullen-” Amie now straddled the front of his thighs, her heated apex pressing close to the hard bulge which stretched the lacing of his breeches.

“-You  _ never _ need to apologize for your desires. Not to anyone and least of all me.”

His eyes slid closed as she brushed her fingers down from his neck and through his coarse chest hair. Stopping her downward descent over his naked chest only when she reached his waistband. _ Acceptance _ . Should he have assumed anything less given her past behaviors? He was a fool to keep concealing his desires from her.

“That can’t be comfortable,” she said as she tugged loose the thin leather thong that criss-crossed along trapped length. Cullen sighed when his cock sprang free and her hands returned to his skin.

His eyes slipped open and he watched her as she explored the dips and ridges of his torso, familiarizing herself with his body once more but firmly ignoring his sex. 

“C-Can, I mean would you... Touch me?” He asked with meaning.

He saw her throat swallow. Saw that she chewed at her lip with indecision. Slowly, Amie crawled up his body and brought their faces close. Her cheeks were flushed, her pupils dilated. “I want to,” she confessed as she gave a gentle rock of her hips against his newly freed length.

Cullen moaned and rolled his body up to meet hers, his hands rising from their position on the bed to squeeze her ass and encourage her to move again.

Amie sighed happily at the increased friction, bringing her lips a hair's breadth from is.

“Cullen, I want to stroke your cock. To see what a beautiful sight I missed out on the night we talked via the crystal.” 

Emboldened by her words he allowed his hands to slip beneath her shift, touching the soft flesh and smooth skin concealed there.

“I want to indulge myself in your body and let you have your way with mine,” she uttered, gyrating gently against his now weeping cock while he trailed his hands further up her hidden figure. Her petticoat bunched as he took a hold of each heavy breast and squeezed. He delighted in her little mewl as he toyed and tweaked her nipples. Her back arched and she encouraged him with another sensuous grind against his throbbing erection. “I long to bring you physical affection, to slake your lust and fuel your pleasures. I want it more than anything in this world.”

Cullen could no longer resist the temptation. With a rush of need he banded one arm across her back, the other in threaded into her hair and crushed their lips together. 

Their kiss was furious and hard. Filled with all the longing caused by their parting and the pent up need of both. She tasted so familiar and sweet and the muffled moan between them surged through his entire being. His hips bucked, his grip tightened, he was not savoring this physical contact, he was drowning in it like a man parched.

“Oh Commander. Cullen. I’ve missed you.” She whispered between breaths. He felt the same and cleaved their chests together, his whole body thrumming from her touch after the weeks of neglect. His tongue licked into her mouth and silenced any other words that may have been shared.

They kissed and held and rolled against each other till everything was forgotten but the feel of their writhing partner.

It was all encompassing and joyous so it was with no little surprise that Amie gave a strangled moan and drew away.

“Amie?” Cullen groaned in frustration as he tried to sit up with her, but her hand on his chest kept him pinned. She panted as she sought to regain mastery of herself and place some much needed air between their bodies.

She looked pained as she spoke. “Not while you are ill. Please, I couldn’t. Not while you are depending on my care.” She cupped his cleanly shaven cheek, begging with her eyes. “It wouldn’t feel right. Please understand.”

He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her palm, taking a moment to calm his racing thoughts and galloping heartbeat. She was right, _again_.

“I do,” he murmured against her skin before allowing his head to thump back against the cushion. She was always right, her sensitivity protected them both. He hadn't eaten or slept properly in days and now, with the new lightness in his limbs and a temporary reprieve from his pains, fatigue crept into his consciousness.

Amie smiled and slipped from his lap. Choosing instead to curl up along his side, her arm draped protectively over his chest.

“Even this, it still helps.”

Amie made a displeased sound in her throat “My leading you on? It was wrong, I’m sorry Cullen I didn’t-”

“No.” He shook his head. “Your touch I mean. And your presence, your scent. It helps ground me.”

“Oh, in that case i’m glad.” She said as she nuzzled into his side and Cullen circled his arms around her while she traced patterns on his chest.

“Your voice did too. I loved it when we could talk.”

Amie hummed in agreement and added. “I agree. It was strange. But the communication felt more honest somehow. We are definitely using it the next time you decide to go on a mission.”

_ Next time _ . Cullen smiled into her hair. _She said there would be a next time_.

\---

Amie had seen Cullen nude more times than she could now remember. But it still pained her to see the weight he had lost. His long healed scars, somehow made bigger and more harrowing by his thinner frame. She studied one such scar, it looked like claw marks. “You’ve had such a hard life.”

Cullen, his voice thick with tiredness replied quietly. “Others have had far worse.”

Her reply was instant “That doesn’t mean your suffering is any less real.”

“Hmm…” 

Then she held him.

Hours passed and still Amie clung to his body.

She began to notice a pattern to his sleep. His breathing rate would increase, his heartbeat thump faster beneath her ear. Then with a quiet murmur or jolt as if electrocuted he would wake.

Amie would quiet his fears in the dark, hold him tight and just repeat “It’s ok. I’m here.” She vowed silently that she would find a way to take back his dreams from whatever creature of the Fade tormented him so.

He fell in and out of sleep. 

She didn’t know what time of day or night it was when he next woke. But his thumb drew circles on her arm where his hand rested.

“Amie, are you awake?”

“Yes.”

She heard him swallow then with a shaking voice whisper, “I’m ready to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut *gasp* I know I know.  
> I just didn't want to do Cullen and his struggles an injustice.
> 
> The next Chapter is looking to be about 6000 words of absolute filth so i promise i will make it up to you. Seriously, it is by far the dirtiest thing I have ever written XD


	13. Oneirology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: EXPLICIT ART / EXPLICIT WRITING.  
> TW: Mentions of sexual assault / Rape

And so they talked.

Amie listened with sympathy and pity as Cullen bared his soul.

How even as a boy he knew he had wanted to serve. 

How he had finally achieved his dream only to have it tainted and twisted. 

How his mind, beaten and paranoid, refused to see the injustices in Kirkwall till it was much, much too late.

How nothing, not women, alcohol or even prayer could stave off his terrors quite like Lyrium. And how the decision to quit the addictive drug was now peeling back the flesh of raw injuries that never fully healed.

She gasped when he mentioned Kinloch. Even as she had been making her debut in Antiva news had spread about that fallen circle.  _ What he has endured _ , she could scarcely comprehend. The scars on his body were now no longer an abstract assortment of old wounds, but a written account of the trauma he had suffered.

Still he spoke. It was if, now he finally had someone to open up to, a decade worth of hurt rushed forth. “I was bound and tortured. She-”

“She?” Amie interjected with a slight frown.

“Well, Desire. It appeared as a she to me. Sometimes as a purple demonic creature like in the books but other times,” his voice dropped an octave. “It used my infatuation with a Mage against me.”

“A Mage?” That was a surprise and she felt the need to question. “Had you ever-”

“No! Never. It would have gone against every oath, every chantry law I had sworn to uphold. But Desire didn’t care for my vows…”

Amie could only hold him,  _ oh Cullen _ .

“It was humiliating. Degrading. Not what I wanted and yet my body betrayed me.”

This she knew of. This she had been taught about and even experienced. Her sympathy suddenly became empathy. 

“I didn’t give in. I didn’t want it!” Cullen’s hands rose from her body and he raked at his disheveled curls. His confession was the quietest of whispers. “But. Andraste preserve me...I-I  _ liked _ it.”

He gave a strangled whine of disgust. “I am a monster.”

“That’s not true.” Amie replied fiercely.

“But-”

“Your body reacts as it is going to react. Whether you enjoyed it or not doesn't matter. You didn’t want it.”

Cullen was silent as he pondered this new view. “That’s true-” he suddenly sighed and she felt the shake of his head. “-but my crimes are not just enjoying a sordid touch.”

He had spoken for almost an hour and had told her  _ everything _ . The Commander was certainly a far cry from the Knight in shining armour that the Orlesains painted him as, but then she had never thought that of him anyway.  _ Too honest, too direct to be courtly _ . Pretty words and false platitudes were not what he needed to hear.

Amie, still clinging to him murmured into his chest. “You’re right.” 

Cullen’s body stiffened beneath her.  _ He fears my disapproval? _ She couldn’t comprehend why he would. _ As if a Courtesan has any right to judge morality. _

“Although for what it’s worth. The fact you are now fighting to be better, to right the wrongs of Kirkwall and the Order. To free yourself from those shackles. I think it’s admirable.”

“Oh,” he said. Relieved.

_ Poor broken man. _ She thought as his body once again stilled beneath her in a restless sleep.  _ Taught to clamp down and repress everything. _ She knew they both had their faith but she couldn't help but despise the Chantry in that moment. The Templars needed Lyrium but never dreamed it was addictive or would suppress emotions and memories. __

_ To never be given the chance to learn about himself or his passions _ . She thought about their early affair, how he often struggled to verbalize his wants and needs even though his passion could be feverish. Now it all made sense.

It was no wonder he stirred with another nightmare a few hours later.

By that time it was almost dawn and so Amie decided to dress in the early morning glow. She went to retrieve her pendant from his bedside draw after stowing it in there during the night. As she pulled on it’s long chain it came out tangled up with a ribbon.

A long black ribbon that she thought she had lost. Amie looked down at the familiar strip of silk with a little awe. He had kept it. Since their first night...  _ For how many months? _

They were long past pretending this was only physical. Their relationship had had an odd start. But it had been nearly 12 months since she had lain with another and part of her didn’t want that to ever change. 

Beside her still in bed Cullen tossed and mumbled “N-no, leave me.”

A sudden wave of protectiveness washed over her and she vowed almost silently. “We are going to take your dreams back!”

\---

Amie spent another two days nursing him. His appetite returned quickly and he saw, with satisfaction that some of his gaunt features once again softened. He felt stronger too, her massage had worked wonders... although that didn’t stop her berating him when she caught him practicing some swordplay wearing nothing but his sleep trousers.

His recovery was not just restricted to his physical ailments. He felt emotionally unburdened. He had told her the worst of his sins, the worst of his sadistic lust and she had listened and accepted all of him. It was as if a lightness now resided in his chest.

She still hadn’t touched him sexually but he wanted her to. He wanted her more than anything and especially in the way he had described. Instead they talked, till he was well enough to return to his duties. Then they talked some more.

It was difficult. Some nights he cried. Most nights he had nightmares but slowly an idea formed.

_ “We’ll need to be in my room.” _

A way to reclaim his mind and turn the harrowing experience into a positive.

_ “I have just the bindings we can use.” _

For it to become consensual.

_ “You will never need to fear it again.” _

Cullen was ready.

  
  


“You are to wait there Cullen.” She instructed with a small peck to his cheek. “I will be taking my time dressing and I forbid you from touching yourself.”

It was like she saw right through to his innermost thoughts. Cullen had been excited about this prospect for days. From the moment they first discussed the idea to now, standing in her space he couldn’t recall how many times he had found his trousers uncomfortably tight. 

“Y-yes!” He eventually replied, long after she had stepped away and his ability to speak had caught up.

He had never been in Amie’s room before. It was richly decorated with thick velvet and an ornate four post bed. She had a bathing and dressing area set just behind a screen and a whole wall full of colorful dresses and accessories. It smelled of her perfume, alluring and provocative. Her instruction to refrain from touching himself now felt a little cruel. Though he was only in a shirt and breeches the fabric was proving to be an irritant against his overheating skin.

His anticipation at what was to come only rose as he saw her shadowed form on the partition screen. Dressing and preening. Removing her clothes and adorning others. He heard the spritz of her perfume and her quiet hum as she appeared satisfied with her reflection.

Cullen waited with baited breath for her to step out for his appraisal and when she did his throat was suddenly too dry to speak. Her hair was a tumble of purple curls, loosely pinned back from her face with a little gold hair slide. Her almost bare shoulders and chest were dusted in a slightly sparkling translucent powder that made her appearance almost ethereal. A fine gossamer shift, also purple, was translucent even in the candle light. He could see every nude inch beneath the petite dress, study her tempting curves and dark nipples as she swayed closer to him. Her makeup was a little heavier than usual with darkly lined eyes, smokey and sensual and a deep red lip. Cullen thought it incredibly seductive. 

“Does this form please you?” She purred as she twirled for his benefit.

Desire was  _ nothing _ compared to Amie when she was determined to exploit her sexuality. 

Cullen, eyes as wide as saucers replied in awe. “Maker’s breath. Is this really you?”

Amie tilted her head ever so slightly and her familiar smile was kind, not ominous. 

“Cullen yes,” she said as she stepped closer to him, linking their hands together. “I’m not a demon. I’m not going to promise you your heart's desires. I don’t even know what they are.” 

She was so close now he could revel in her scent. Lavender and sweet. Not sulfur and bile.  _ It is Amie _ . “We are in the here and now and we are going to claw your dreams back from that bitch in the fade.”

Cullen gave a small chuckle, partly in amusement at hearing her curse, partly to alleviate his nerves.

She released his hands to stroke down his sides, his thin shirt doing nothing to stem the electric feeling of her touching his body after their recent self restraint.

“Are you absolutely sure you want this?” She asked again. He had lost count of the number of times she had confirmed his consent while they were making this ‘plan’ together.

Cullen nodded, full of certainty. “I think it might actually work. Maker knows I’ve tried everything else and it-”

He swallowed and looked down at Amie’s nimble fingers as she began to unlace the front of his shirt, her hands just grazing the coarse chest hair there.

“-It certainly cannot hurt to try,” he finished just as she tugged at the hem of his garment, encouraging him to shed it. When he did so she cooed with satisfaction, her fingers once again exploring his toned chest.

“We aren’t using a safe word. If you tell me to stop, I will stop.”

Cullen gulped, the blood rushing to his length making him feel a little light headed. “I know, but I want this. Even thinking about it is making me-”

“I can tell.” She interrupted, stroking over his tented pants to paw at his rapidly swelling erection. 

“Amie,” he moaned as she brought her lips up to his. Distracting him with her kiss while she slipped his breeches from his hips and they fell to the floor. Her hands were soft and stimulating as they stroked up and down his chest, his back, his arms, his thighs yet she refrained from touching him where he yearned for it. 

“You are so beautiful Commander.” Amie said as she stood back to take in his nude form, making him blush slightly as she did so. He felt a little unsure at being exposed _ but not vulnerable. _ That was all the sign he needed that this was right. There was no one in Thedas who he trusted more.

“Go and sit on the bed.”

The bindings were already in place, wrapped around each of the four ornate bedposts. Red silk ribbons, widely cut so they wouldn't mark his wrists or ankles and each a few meters in length. He would be tied up but not really restricted. Cullen gulped and asked nervously “Don’t I need to be tightly restrained?” 

Amie smiled and fastened the bows around his wrists first. “We’ll work up to that if it’s something you find enjoyable. But it’s not the focus this time.”

Cullen gave a shaky breath as she moved to his ankles, they were tight but not painfully so and found he was already hard as a rock from the anticipation alone. 

“This is to beat Desire,” he said gravely.

“Yes.” She agreed, leaning over his body once he was tied up to her satisfaction. His cock throbbed at her nearness. 

“You are to learn that there is nothing Desire can offer you that I will not give freely, do you understand?”

“Yes,” he breathed, testing his range of movement and finding it largely unimpeded.

Amie’s hands dragged down his exposed thighs, parting them till she could kneel between his legs. “And there is nothing she can take from you that you haven't already given to me.”

“Andraste preserve me, yes.”

“Excellent.” She praised, then brushed her lips over his in a soft whisper of a kiss.

Cullen watched on with fascination as Amie removed a thin black ribbon she had tied around her own wrist, he thought he recognized it.

“Is that-” he started to question.

“It is. I found it in your drawer, I thought it apt that we use it.”

She trailed the fine silk down his body and loosely wrapped it around his shaft so that when she pulled it, slowly, the unwinding ribbon caressed his sex.

Cullen moaned. His cock was already proudly upright but the slow brush of luxury against his silken skin was making his arousal almost painful.

“There is nothing Desire can offer you-” Amie repeated her earlier words as she now tied the ribbon with intent. The silk circled his shaft, wrapped around his sack and then was tied off with a pretty bow at his base.  _ This feels odd but not bad, _ he noted.  _ Just different and exciting _ . Amie had seen his eyes widen with surprise and so seeking to reassure him had once crawled forwards, tilting his chin up with her finger.

“-nothing, it can offer you that I won’t freely give. Do you understand?”

Cullen groaned as Amie began to play with his entrapped cock. Her fingers drew little patterns along his length and swirled at the already leaking tip.

“Cullen?”

“Yes, Yes I understand. Maker’s Breath Amie-” he moaned as she began to work his pulsing length with intent. It had been too long since his last release “-if you don’t stop I will burst!”

“Are you sure about that?” She said with a sly smile.

Cullen panted and watched her skillful treatment of his sex. Caressing and squeezing and stroking till his hips started to buck and his slit was crowned with a dewy bead of lust. He was already so close.

“I-I need,” he uttered between little murmurs and praises.

“You need to give me your pleasure.” She demanded in between his ragged breaths. Her hand coaxing and pumping it’s pleasurable rhythm till his eyes rolled back and slipped closed. 

Cullen’s whole body felt on edge, he couldn’t hold back the surge that rushed over him.

“And when you think you can’t give anymore-”

“Amie I need to come please!” he groaned and for the first time recognized what the little bow at the base of his cock was doing.  _ Sweet Maker I can’t come _ .

“-I will continue to take from you.” 

Her hand stopped it’s rapid pumping and Cullen’s nerves, caught on the precipice of release, caused him to writhe on the bed in pleasured agony. He was insensible to the way she caressed her own heavy curves while she watched his orgasm slowly slip away.

“Mercy woman.” Cullen breathed as he looked over at her, flushed and kneeling between his thighs, pressing one hand over her apex and the other tweaking her nipple.

“Do you want me to stop?” She asked kindly.

He studied his beguiling bedmate. Her skin was pink and radiating warmth, her eyes dark with lust. She was the very image of feminine seduction and beauty. Yet he felt no fear. No disgust at himself or her but an overwhelming  _ need _ to see how far she could take him.

His answer was determined. “Don’t stop. I want more.”

  
  


\---

“Yes Commander.” Amie sighed as she stopped stroking over her lingerie to once again focus her attention on him. His body had slipped down onto the pillows while she had been touching him and now, largely laying down she covered him. 

Her fingers held onto his silk covered wrists as she pressed kisses along his throat. A groan reverberated in his chest as she tugged on his lower lip with her teeth. He was enjoying this far more than she had anticipated. With each new action, a jerk on his bindings or gentle pull on his hair she watched for his discomfort. There was none.

As she dipped her head to lick at his nipples she heard him hiss.

“Do you need me to stop?” She asked at once.

“Never!” He grunted “Amie this is, you’re incredible.” She smiled as she followed the trail of his chest hair lower. Her fingers digging firmly into his hip bones as she dragged her tongue up from his sac to his slit.

Beneath her Cullen vibrated with pleasure.

For Amie, taking direct control like this was a little out of her comfort zone. She liked that typically Cullen was the dominant and demanding party but could admit that the way he squirmed beneath her touches was highly gratifying. And seeing him buck against his restraints had her whole being eager to take him inside her.

_ There’s time, give him what he needs,  _ she reminded herself. This wasn’t about her desires.

She could taste his essence as she took him into her mouth. His near orgasm before now having made his cock slick from his leaked cum. Greedily she cleaned him. Tracing his ridges and veins with her tongue and then swirling across his tip.

At her sides she could see Cullen’s fingers bunching into her bed linen “So Good. Amie. Yes.” He murmured as she began the familiar dip, suck and pull with her lips. A steady rhythm that soon had his single word praises devolving into broken moans and cries. Holding one arm across his toned abdomen to keep his body pressed into the bed, her other hand tickling at his taut balls that were firmly bound, she took him further. Breathing deeply she was able to swallow down his length till her lips met the edge of the black ribbon.

She wasn’t strong enough to stop the frantic thrusts of his hips that were spurred by her action. Cullen’s desperation to spill himself while encased in her throat was understandable but unattainable with her clever knot. When she pulled back for air he whined and begged, only to cry out her name as she sucked him once more. Fingers and lips and tongue all working in tandem. Amie had never felt more desirable than she did now with him subject to her whims. She hoped when he was better he might return the favor. The temptation to ride his face while he was in this state was strong but she had to stay true to her purpose.

Lick, suck, swallow and pause. Breathe and then repeat.

Once again tasting the salty spend of his pending release Amie pulled away.

Cullen sobbed. “Amie, please. I’m so close.”

This time she didn’t let the edge of his orgasm abate fully. Her own need was now too urgent to ignore. She prowled up his body, took a hold of his swollen erection and with an ecstatic sigh seated him deeply within her heat.

_ Oh sweet Andraste _ she thought as her aching core was filled and stretched with his solid girth. Cullen, still reeling from her skillful oral ministrations was rutting within moments. An edge of desperation in his movements while Amie above him held relatively still. Enjoying his shallow thrusts and the sight of his straining arms and flexing muscles. 

He was half propped on a pillow and Amie made a show of sliding her chemise from her shoulders. Her full breasts bared right before him.

Feigning cool control when her whole being was overheated and needy was difficult, but she managed to sound disinterested. “My nipples feel cold,” she said nonchalantly. “Warm them with your tongue. ” Was her order. She yelped as Cullen's arms bounded across the arch of her back and he dragged her breasts to his eager mouth.

She was so happy she had given him a range of movement as he now suckled and nipped and licked at her chest while Amie began a slow, sensual roll of her hips. His length rocking within her and stroking her inner walls.

“Mmnn, you feel so good inside me Cullen.” She moaned and heard his appreciative grumble reverberate against her chest. He was harder than she could ever have imagined and he felt exquisite within her. His lathing attention on her chest was leaving pretty pink marks, the friction between their bodies impossibly electric. Amie gasped as a sudden buck of his hips nearly drove her to the edge. The charade needed to end.

“You have been so patient and giving.” 

She reveled in his hot tongue on her chest and the inferno of bliss within her core for only a few moments more.

“Would you like to come now?”

\---

Cullen was almost too wrapped up in his suckling and kissing of her breasts to understand her meaning at first. He released her nipple with a little pop and looked up at her with lust fogged eyes.

_ Radiant, goddess, Amie.  _ She gave him a little seductive smile and sighed as she undulated over him some more. He felt the near painful tightening in his sex, the almost familiar burn as his release was repressed again.  _ There is nothing for Desire. Give it all to her. Give her your pleasure _ .

They moaned together as he felt himself leak within her. _Mo_ __r_ e _ . In truth he could have come three times over but for the little ribbon which held him back. As a result the feelings he was experiencing were intense, indescribable and quite unlike anything else. Both physical and emotional highs he had reached. Sight. Cullen, a grateful prisoner, watched the beautiful siren above him as she rode him in earnest. Smell. Her scent was all around him. Touch. The caress of her soft skin and the equally fine lingerie she wore that is now draped loose around her waist.

Amie moans and shudders as she takes from him, holding back her own end. He wants to tell her she doesn't have to. His body is hers to use now if she wants it. “You’ve done so well.” She says before crushing their lips together. Taste. The flavour of her kisses, intoxicating and caramel. Not a single sense was spared the onslaught. She was his entire world... so he can't help but make a noise of discontentment as she leaves his body.

“Amie?”

“You’ve given me so much.” She praises fondly as she pulls on the bow at each of his wrists. There is a faint tingling as his circulation returns to him and at once he has his hands on her body and they share a lust filled licking and biting kiss. She turns and presents him with a view of her beautiful rear, soft and supple as she leans forward. She is still straddling him so her thighs are parted. offering him the sight of her tempting wet folds as she unpicks the bindings of his ankles.

Amie, kneeling upright, then reaches behind to grasp his length and Cullen watches with dark eyes as she impales herself on him with a broken cry. She rests her back against his chest and he reaches round to cup her heavy breasts. He feels a tugging near their joining.

“Now you can take whatever you want.” She says as the black ribbon is carelessly discarded beside them.

Amie begins to move before his mind recognizes what has happened. She rocks back onto his length over and over and this time there is nothing to hold back the fury of his desire.

With his hands dropping hips he guides her movements. Bouncing her firmly on his cock and watching with fascination how his body splits her with each penetration. This position is new, exciting, he can feel Amie play with her pearl as ruts up into her. But it is not enough.

_ More.  _

With a snarl and a sharp push she falls forwards onto the bed. Her knees are bent, her face down and with a furious snap of his hips he’s in her again.

“Amie your cunt is sin,” he grunts as he sets a brutal pace, her cries slightly muffled by the bedsheets, her hands gripping them tightly as their bodies collide. Tight, wet, hot. He doesn't know if he says the words or only thinks them but the punctuate each violent thrust. This is more than enough for him to find his end. But it’s as if he is now balancing on a knife edge, having been brought to the brink so many times he before...

_ More. _

Half mad from the ecstasy he throws his weight over her and she is pinned beneath him. His arms are locked over her shoulders as he drives into her trapped body. He fucks her hard, fast and with fury. His lust is rampant and needy and Amie is only offering him more encouragement. “Yes that’s it Cullen yes!”. He bites her shoulder. With a cry his balls tighten but he _still_ can’t fall.

_ More. _

“What have you done to me?” He growls and withdraws. Like a predator gives a large swipe against her back till she rolls over.

He pushes her thighs apart with urgency and swiftly re-enters her tight heat rejoicing in her keening cry.

Now he can see her. See her breasts bouncing with each hard thrust. See her eyes squeezed tight as she rides out her own waves of delight. He watches her come apart beneath him.

“Cullen, Cullen, CULLEN!”

Her back arches as she screams his name and he feels her body constrict about him. At the tightening of her walls he finally,  _ finally... _

“Amie, ah AH-” his own shout is followed by a loud groan as his cock pulses repeatedly within her. The sensation of his seed filling her channel is acutely primal. His hips stutter as his vision whites. The high he experiences is long, transcendent and like nothing he has ever felt before. 

A short while later she pulls the thick blanket around their bodies and holds him close. He had sobbed in her arms, overwhelmed, in awe. Now he tries to speak again, but it is little more than a few little murmurs of her name.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. You did so well.”

“ _ Amie, _ I-I’m in-”

“Shh, sleep now. I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

_ She’s here, she’s here. _

Cullen was certain. He would never be able to leave her side again.

_ Amie I’m in love with you. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have wanted to write a 'Sex Therapy' chapter for so so long.  
> I hope I've done it justice and I hope you enjoyed it <3
> 
> Oneirology: The Study of Dreams. In case you were wondering xxx


	14. Literature

He was made to kneel on the cold stone floor. His wrists were bound in rusted chains that chafed at his skin. The collar around his neck was roughly tugged, the action making him fall forward awkwardly.

Before him Amie, _No, not Amie_. Laughed. She was wearing dark leathers, cut to leave her breasts bared. A jet black wig and a cruel smile. Her yellow eyes were of the right shape, but lacked any warmth or feeling other than mirth.

“You want this Cullen. Deep in your bones you ache for it.” She said as she leaned over to tilt his chin. Her scent was all wrong, her fingers too cold.

“You can not tempt me Demon.” Cullen’s response was immediate and easily given. 

Amie smirked and dropped his face. She started to run her hands over her own curves. Cupping her breasts, her core. It was a heady sight, arousing and sinful, but Cullen found he could ignore the throbbing in his loins far more readily than his normal nightly terrors. She moaned as she rubbed herself. “Cullen please, we’ve danced this dance before. You know you can’t lie to me, I can see into your heart.” The Amie demon joined him on the floor, kneeling before him and trailing a long clawed fingernail down his chest. “Give it to me, give in to me. I can only be yours if you do.” 

Something stirred in his consciousness. A memory from the waking world. _There is nothing Desire can offer you that I will not give freely..._

“No!” Cullen snarled back, his eyes hard and unclouded.

 _“No?”_ She hissed. This was where he would usually begin begging to be left alone yet there was no need for it. He was strong.

“You can not have my body, or my heart, because I’ve already given it to her.”

Desire’s scowl deepened as she scrutinized her prisoner. A sharp pain lanced Cullen’s mind as she bore into his thoughts.

“There is nothing for you here.” He gritted out through clenched teeth.

“Really?”

Her form shimmered and shifted before him. The leather and chains dispersed. The cold stone floor became soft grass. 

They were in a meadow, he could no longer hear screeching and screams but birds chirping happily in the trees. Amie, wore a white billowing lace dress with a crown of wildflowers on her head. She addressed him with a soft smile. “Come on Cullen we can’t keep the Chantry Mother waiting, take my hand.”

Cullen blinked. Equal parts rejoiced and crushed at the sight of her finger, adorned with a simple solitaire ring.

“N-no.” His stammered reply was weaker than his last response and Desire knew it.

“What’s the matter?” The demon mocked as she stood over him. “Have you given your heart to one who can’t return it? Poor Templar.”

Cullen’s fingers clutched at the fade beneath him. It felt so real he nearly wept. He had only just accepted the depth of his feelings for Amie himself. The emotions were new and raw and it _hurt_ for them to be used against him. His head was heavy as it was tilted up again, his body becoming unresponsive as he started to fall out of the dream. 

The Demon before him purred as she spoke. “What you want from her is unattainable, but with me it could be your reality. Consider it my love.”

Her hand now around his windpipe squeezed.

“I’ll be waiting in your dreams. We’ll be together soon.”

* * *

Cullen gasped for air as he awoke. His body, rigid and tense, his heart thundering in his chest. For a moment his unfamiliar surroundings caused him alarm. _Am I still in the dream?_ It would not be the first time Desire had played such a cruel trick on him.

“Another nightmare?” The figure beside him asked sadly, setting down the letter she was reading to check the temperature of his forehead. At her soft touch the night before came back to him in a rush of warmth and tenderness.

He’s in Amie’s room. He’d stayed the night. His eyes, now seeing clearly, take in her concerned expression. She has removed her makeup and wig from the day before and sits beside him on the bed, the white sheets drawn up to her chest to protect her modesty.

Cullen can’t help but feel shame at disturbing her with another nightmare. Not after she had done so much for him. “I - I.” 

“It’s okay.” She soothed him even before he could apologize. “It was never going to be a miracle cure, these things take time.”

Her hands were gentle as she coaxed his head into her lap and Cullen sighed as her fingers thread into his hair. _This must be what a spoiled Mabari feels like_ , he thought contentedly.

His breathing and heartbeat soon settled under her gentle caress. Although the nightmare was already fading he could faintly recall having the strength and conviction to stand up to his tormentor.

 _All thanks to her_. He thought as he looked up at Amie’s face. She was once again reading her letter above him, a tiny frown between her brows.

“What are you reading?” He asked, noting the Trevelyan seal on the reverse of the paper.

Amie smiled at his interruption and set the parchment down beside her. 

“Was I neglecting you my Commander? You must forgive me, it was just my correspondence, I’m sure it wouldn't interest you.”

Normally, before last night, that would have been the end of it. Cullen wasn’t entitled to know her thoughts nor was he the type to pry. But now he longed to know her better. “From your brother?” He decided to guess, happy when she didn’t shut him down immediately.

“Yes.” She said solemnly and continued to play with his hair. He half wonders if it is as soothing for her as it is for him. “Unlike his first wretched attempt he is now begging forgiveness and reconciliation. But I think it’s impossible.” Her hand stills in his curls. “I am not the sister he knew.”

Cullen can’t help but draw a comparison to his own family and his own reticence to reconnect. Mia had refused to give up on him despite his silence. That her brother was persisting was a hopeful sign.

“I know how you feel,” he mumbled. 

“Oh?”

“I didn’t write to my siblings for years. I still haven't seen them in person in nearly two decades but they persevered. When this war is over I would like to visit them. They live in the South Bannorn now, It is a beautiful part of Fereldan.” _You could come with me,_ he silently added.

Amie hummed, “Perhaps we are more similar than I first thought Commander. I’ll admit at first I was adamant there could be no future for us.” Their eyes met, whatever she saw in him now gave her hope “Perhaps I was hasty. I will give it some time. The reconciliation must be on my terms.”

She stroked him again and asked “Do you think you’ll be able to get back to sleep?” 

“No, but this-” he nuzzled a little into her lap. “- is nice.”

“Well then we can stay here as long as you like.”

While they rest in companionable silence Cullen thought.

He knew his feelings now, even if he couldn’t yet bring himself to tell her. And what would it mean if he were to confess? Could there be a world where they could be together?

They were at War and he was a Commander, sworn to fight. Wars were expensive and she was a Courtesan working to raise much needed funds for them. Each of them were indispensable in their way.

 _She is a Courtesan_. Cullen recognized the ugly seed of jealousy taking root in his gut, but couldn’t stop himself from speaking his next words.

“How many men have you slept with?”

Amie started for a moment, then with an arched brow replied “Just men?”

He already regretted it. “You know what i’m saying.”

“I do.” She sighed “And it is very wrong of you to ask.”

“Why is it?”

“Would you tell me how many people you have made tranquil?”

Cullen knew she was quick witted. But such a rebuke was severe.

“I-” It didn’t matter that the Knight Commander wielded the brand and not him. Even if he never carried out the act himself… It was his crime that he didn’t intervene with Meredith sooner. How many miscarriages of justice had there been because of his hesitation and blindness to the truth. “Too many.” His reply was solemn.

“Well then.” She said a little stiffly. Then a moment later spoke again, all softness and understanding. “This hasn’t been a concern of yours for a long while. Why bring it up now?”

She was right as always. If he was going to win her hand and her heart he knew he had to be honest. Starting now.

“When we stayed with Lord Merlot he... asked after you.” It sounded foolish when he said it aloud.

“That is all?” She asked with disbelief.

“Yes but his tone made me think that perhaps he was an ex-patron of yours and it just, needled me I suppose.”

“He was. He was one of my earliest Patrons and my first love.”

Cullen sat up in shock.

“You _loved_ him?”

“I thought I did. You must know what first attachments are like, they become all consuming.”

That he could certainly attest to. His first infatuation very nearly became the death of him. “Then why… how?”

Amie sighed. “Lord Merlot is of an old family but dirt poor. At least they were till a match was arranged with a lesser branch of the family who had been significantly more successful. His fiancee was the apple of her father's eye. So I was sent ahead to Merlot as a.. Ah how do I describe it. An engagement gift?”

Cullen looked confused.

“I was to teach the young man about the arts of the bedroom so his betrothed would have a kind and considerate lover as a husband.”

The excesses of nobility rarely ceased to amaze him anymore but this was painful to hear.

“My placement was three months long. During the day I would spend time with his mother, a lonely widow in need of friendship and in the evening I would attend the young man.”

Cullen was still reeling. _She had been in love?_

“Within a month he vowed he loved me. I was younger then, I believed him. We were going to run away together and live a quiet life.”

“What happened?” Cullen scarcely dared ask.

She looked at him as if he were a simpleton. “No man marries a whore Commander."

As much as he loathed the thought of her with anyone else, he couldn't bear the thought of her in pain even more. "I am so sorry."

"It is in the past. It hurt for a little while. But I don’t resent him or his wife. It taught me a valuable lesson about my station and I have never been so naive as to fall for a man’s pretty promises in bed again.”

 _She does seem unaffected_ , he thought. He was now even more relieved he didn’t confess his love in the throes of passion. He would hate for her to think him insincere.

“As we are on the subject you should know. I’m not the only one with admirers.”

“Bah!” Cullen scoffed and waved his hand dismissively. Amie laughed at his nonchalance. “While you were away on mission Josephine was inundated with requests about your marriageability.”

“I have no intention of being wed at the Inquisitions or indeed at anyones' behest.” 

Amie, misunderstanding his meaning seemed a little sad at his vow to not marry. Cullen inwardly cursed.

“Would it be so bad to be married?” She asked, guarded. “It would give you some security and stability for when this is all over?” 

Cullen hated seeing her sad and turned his body towards hers, his hand trailed down her bare arm in an affectionate caress. “You, who ran away from a life of security as a child think I a grown man cannot do the same?” 

Amie leaned into his touch. “That’s different. And this would ensure you are comfortable once the war is over.”

 _When the war is over_. He had been a soldier for so long he had thought of little else. And certainly never of ‘after’ he could die any day. And any future that didn’t contain Amie was unthinkable.

 _What were her plans?_ He had to know. “What do you want? Following on from the Inquisition I mean.”

Her answer was quick. “Independence. I will work till I can afford a suitably sized house then either let rooms for lodging or…” her answer trailed off.

“Or” Cullen pushed.

Amie looked down into her lap, her fingers twisting together almost nervously. “Or, hopefully open a school. I should like very much to be a teacher.”

Cullen could picture it so readily. A pleasant house situated by a meadow with enough land for a homestead and out buildings. Her school hall would be only a quarter of a mile away, close enough for her to return to their home for lunch if she should wish it.

Cullen looked at her sweet face, it was rare for her to lack confidence. He brought his thumb up to brush her cheek and reflected on her positive qualities. Patience, kindness, intelligence and how the few children in Skyhold seem to dote on her.

An overwhelming feeling of conviction burned in his veins. He would fight for that future, for her dream. He would die for it if needed and he would spend every minute between the battles showing her just how much she meant to him.

“Hmm, you would be a wonderful teacher.” He said softly.

Her pretty eyes flicked up to his and she flushed at his praise. “Do you really think so?”

 _So beautiful, inside and out._ Cullen, heart full of love and tenderness now felt the familiar tingling sensation of lust flood his senses.

He smirked, the scar on his lip tugging up with the action. “You’ve taught me well haven't you?”

“Cullen-” She scolded him and tapped his arm. He didn't mind. He loved it when she said his name. It took so long for her to let her guard down, to see him as more than the Commander. Now she finally says it, he doesn't want her to ever stop. Whether it’s soothing when he is ill. Chiding when he has annoyed her. Or shouted as he brings her to completion. He could happily spend a lifetime listening to his name on her tongue.

 _And with that in mind_ , Cullen’s eyes darkened as he leaned into her body. His face nuzzling into her hair as he breathed deeply of her familiar, alluring scent. “Amie.”

As he drew back he saw her throat swallow nervously, saw her tongue moisten her lips in anticipation.

“I-I get the impression that we aren’t talking about dancing and languages anymore.” She was already breathless and shifting beneath him. He can see the tell tale squirm of her legs below the sheets as she looked for stimulation against her apex.

“We are not. But you’ve still taught me well. Taught me exactly where to touch you to make you blush.” 

His hand swept her long hair back from her neck. He allowed his fingers to linger on the strands, loving their softness. She flushed from the intimate action.

He spoke in the low pitched tenor of a lover. “Where to kiss you to make you shiver.” Cullen brought the lock of hair up to his lips and he pressed a chaste kiss to it, then crowding forward placed another on her cheek, just to the side of her lips.

Amie does indeed shiver.

He whispered into her ear. “Where to lick you to make you scream.”

At his words his lips find her neck. Amie moaned and tilted her head back. The kisses are simple at first. Then he nips at her ear lobe and chases the sting away with his tongue. Then he draws a long, slow lick up the hollow. 

Her body slipped lower on the bed. Cullen uses her distraction to pull away the sheet concealing her from his sight and then, on all fours, cages her beneath him. They are both nude from the evening prior, the fissions of energy almost magnetic between them.

“I can read your body like a book.”

Amie pants, breathless even from those scant touches. Her lids heavy.

“Rather confident in your abilities are you?” She challenged with a smirk of her own.

“Would you care for a practical demonstration?”

“I am always open to any opportunity to educate my Commander.”

Cullen's response was a roguish smirk, before he dropped his lips to her throat once more.

\---

His teeth and lips found her throat and Amie’s eyes slid shut.

Cullen’s boast, of being able to read her body, was no exaggeration. Every touch and caress was deliberate and applied to devastating effect. Every little sigh and moan she rewarded him with only encouraged him more.

Amie could confidently say that he was far and away the most giving lover she had ever had. Yes when his need was urgent he fucked her hard, but he made love softly. And they did make love now.

“Oh Cullen.” She praised, his mouth was everywhere at once. Down the column of her throat. 

Down to her full breasts which he suckled at till she is begging “more.”

Down past her navel till his shoulders rest between her parted thighs.

Down to worship at her core.

Amie’s fingers abandoned the bed sheets she had been gripping and she instead clutched desperately at his now disheveled curls.

“Cullen!” She cried out and felt his approving murmur vibrate against her sex. He worked her masterfully. He gave long, loving licks against her slit. Pausing to work his tongue into her entrance. The action made her squirm and buck so he was forced to hold her hips still. Although she was the dominant party yesterday it was easy for her to confess that she loved being pinned by him. Shifting he now gave skillful little licks across her clit, each coaxing touch rippled out from her center and made her ache with want . 

Amie slid her lust fogged eyes open to watch him as he worked. His jaw flexing, the stubble on his cheek adding a delicious burn of friction against her thighs. His face serene and content. One of his hands left her hips and she felt his finger probing. Golden eyes snapped open to look at her as he slid one thick digit into her heat. Amie wriggled against the intrusion, his amber stare was as intense as the pleasure he was gifting her. Then with a needy mewl she submitted to his whims. Her head fell back against the soft cushions as he carried her ever higher.

He added a second finger to her tight channel and worked them. In, out. Scissor and stretch and curling to stoke her fires higher. He latched on and sucked at her bundle of nerves in an increasing tandem that had her legs quivering about his shoulders. It was perfect.

“M-Maker. Cullen. YES!” She screamed as her whole body convulsed beneath his skilled hands and tongue. Her vision whitened, she couldn’t even hear her own breaths as she rode the orgasmic wave.

Panting and sated she allowed him to maneuver her body. His hips pressed flush against her own and she felt the grind of his hard erection against her entrance. He rocked lightly, coating his engorged tip and waiting for her to open one glassy green eye.

“Please.” He begged, rocking against her again to illustrate his desire.

“Always.” She breathed, eager to be filled.

He laced their fingers together and then, With a deliberately slow roll of his hips pierced her core. 

“Oh Amie.” He moaned as he was sheathed within her and now face to face they finally kissed. His rigid cock felt so good as they moved against each other. A beautiful, sensual pace. Unhurried despite her renewed flush of desire. Each moan and whimper swallowed down by the other as they give and take, slow and soft and Elysian. One of Amie’s legs slid up and over his back and she clung his body close as they moved together. It was a symphony of sensations that combined into a crescendo of physical need.

The pace of his thrusting hips increased and Amie’s head tilted back once more, his hot lips, hungry at her throat again. 

She didn’t care if he marked her anymore. The whole keep was already abuzz about their affair after she stayed with him so long.

She didn’t care if they talked. She’d already broken almost every rule for him...

She didn’t know if there were any rules she wouldn’t break, in order to keep the wonderful man who now clung and rutted into her welcoming body. His fingers clutched her's tighter. His cock filled her with rapid satisfying jolts that made her breasts bounce against his chiseled chest.

Heat bloomed within her like beautiful summer roses. _This must be what it feels_ like she thought before a sudden snap of his hips sent her crashing into ecstasy once more.

Cullen, grunted at her tightening walls. And with a few, hard, final thrusts spilled himself within her.

Breathless he tried to speak “Amie, I-”

“Don’t. Don’t say it. I - I know.”

His frown deepened “You do?”

She gave the tiniest of nods and he fell onto her body with relief and exhaustion. He was heavy but it was a welcoming grounding weight and she was relieved he couldn’t see the shining tears in her eyes.

He murmured against her chest. “Then let me buy you out of your contract. Let me help you.”

She held him close. “I don't want there to be money between us.”

He gave a pained groan “Please, _please_ I want you, this, us. Amie…” it broke her heart.

“I _can't share_ you anymore.”

What could she say to that? He didn’t know he had never had to share her affections or her body. That through circumstance or fate she had only been his for months.

At her ongoing silence his head rose. His whiskey eyes were a little hurt and unsure. “That is, if you feel the same...?”

“I do. I want this, us.” His whole being lit up with joy and she couldn’t help but smile at his expression.

“I’ll negotiate a reduced fee. I’ll still carry my title but will no longer provide certain services.”

_Another rule broken_ , she thought.

A short while later. After they have bathed and dressed, Amie saw him picking up the discarded letter from her brother. He looked at the Trevelyan seal for ten seconds till he realized she was watching and with an embarrassed flush, placed it onto her writing desk.

Amie offered him her arm “Ready to face the world again Commander?”

“With you by my side always?” He gave an almost boyish grin.

As they departed she didn’t see him look back at the letter on her desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What has piqued Cullen's interest I wonder?
> 
> \---
> 
> Thank you all again for your ongoing support. I'm not sure if you realize how much each and every Kudos and comment means to me. They are like little virtual hugs and I love them.


	15. Social Sciences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've got no art for you all this update.  
> I hope the words are descriptive enough to fuel your imaginations :D

Cullen hadn’t been above begging if it had come to it. But Amie’s relative quickness to concede to the change in her employment spoke volumes. She wanted this, wanted  _ him _ as much as he did her. 

“I’ll negotiate a reduced fee.” She said as they rose from Amie’s ornate bed to begin dressing for the day. “I’ll still carry my title but will no longer provide certain services.”

Cullen glowed with happiness. He was sure Josephine would agree to the terms,  _ no one would lay a finger on her again. _

They dressed in a companionable silence, offering the other shy smiles as they shared in the domestic task. After last night and the heartfelt sharing of the morning Cullen felt closer to her than ever before. She had given him a precious glimpse into her innermost thoughts and he would not squander the gift. He had no doubt that she would in time achieve her dream of running a small country school, she had tenacity and resilience enough to achieve almost anything single-handedly. Though there was one thing she had alluded to, something she thought impossible and  _ that _ was miraculously within his gift to give.

It was the next natural step. He loved her and would be a fool if he let her ever leave his side.

_ But how to proceed? _ Cullen thought as he straightened the bed sheets. His years living in barracks had been habit forming when it came to cleanliness in his bedroom, even if his office space was invariably lacking. She believed in actions not words,  _ and has been disappointed before _ , he recalled. He would need to wait for the time to be right. She wouldn’t accept him if he spoke in the heat of the moment. Just as he was tucking in the final corner of the coverlet Cullen’s heavy boot crunched some parchment underfoot. He picked up the discarded paper and recognized it as the Letter Amie was reading the night before.  _ From her brother. _

Cullen didn’t scan the contents, the seal alone was enough for inspiration to strike.

_ Yes. _ He would treat her properly. Like the Lady she was born to be. He set the note down and hoped his face didn’t betray his excitement. As they stepped from the room together he felt lighter than air. 

Each step he took was a step closer to the happy ever after she deserved. 

A step closer to him asking for her hand.

* * *

  
  


His day was busy. Adamant loomed. Following the dreaded findings of the Inquisitor on her most recent scouting mission to the Western Approach they knew that a battle was inevitable. Although at least this time they would be taking the fight to their enemies. Rylen had overseen some of the preparations during his illness, now he was well, Cullen was determined to make up for his absence.

Amie still occupied all of his heart but his mind had to be for his men.

_ Focus.  _ For now the aim was to move a provisional force into a recently cleared fortress and no detail was too small for his notice. Provisions were checked, the route reviewed and multiple contingencies put in place. He chartered the alchemists to prepare a light and heat resistant balm to wear in the desert and tasked the blacksmiths with adjusting the soldier’s uniforms to make them more accommodating for the arid heat.

The whole keep was abuzz with a positive resolve. Not to mention that his seemingly tireless presence seemed to greatly improve morale among his soldiers. There were a few knowing winks and playful jibes from his more senior officers about  _ why _ he was in such an energetic mood. He chose to neither confirm or deny the suppositions and instead ordered them back to work, grinning to himself about just how right they were when he thought no one was looking.

It seemed that within no time at all the bell was tolling four, time for the weekly general council meeting. After the Quartermaster, chief medic and representative from the Mages collective had given their reports Amie arrived.

“A large contingent of the nobility will leave just after the army departs. This will give us a short reprieve from guests and I recommend we make some updates to the guest quarters.”

“Yes I was thinking the same,” Josephine agreed, scratching out the note before her.

“I am happy to help assist you in making the necessary arrangements. It is likely that after our victory in Adamant we will be inundated with those wishing to share in the Inquisitions success.”

Cullen faintly smiled at her confidence in him, in the army he had built and the Inquisition as a whole.

“Yes, you will be quite the busy Courtesan.” 

“About that-” Amie seized her opportunity as Cullen held his breath “I would like to renegotiate my contract.”

“You want more money?” The Inquisitor spoke up, with an unimpressed tone.

Amie, undeterred, threaded her hands together before her. “The opposite in fact. Due to certain personal developments-” She looked over at him and Cullen felt his scar tug up into an unconcealed smirk. “-I will no longer be offering private services to the patrons of the Inquisition.”

Beside him Josephine giggled before clearing her throat to try and maintain her professionalism.

Cullen saw the Inquisitor glance over to him, then back to Amie. At her understanding of the situation she crossed her arms.

“And if we were to refuse?” She said stiffly.

“Then I shall retire from the profession entirely.”  _ She would? For me. _ Cullen gripped the hilt of his sword, he would speak to her defense if required. No one, not even the Inquisitor would separate them now.

“As it stands if you permit me to remain then I shall continue to attend to the other needs of the nobility, arrange events and entertainments. Settle their little squabbles and share our successes. With such an influx of Patrons expected I will certainly be of use-” she paused and gave small indifferent wave of her hand “but if you would rather take more of these duties on yourself Inquisitor then I fully und-”

“No!” Fi’laurel interrupted, she despised their wealthy benefactors even more than him. “No need. You are quite welcome to stay.”

“Thank you Inquisitor.” Amie gave a deep bow and Cullen was certain he was the happiest man alive.

* * *

  
  


They were back in his room after a long day of attending to their respective duties, tonight Cullen had made sure to lock the door. 

“This evening Commander I thought we might try something a little different,” Amie purred as she stepped behind the dressing screen she had placed in his loft.

Cullen was already eagerly stripping away his armor. Following the council meeting he had wanted to go to her immediately, to thank her  _ properly _ for giving them this chance but his duties had prevented him.

“D-different?” Cullen asked as he removed his undershirt and made himself comfortable propped against his pillows. The delay with his work hadn’t dampened his appetite, he could hear the faint rustling of fabrics against skin and already found his thin trousers stretching too tight over his swelling erection.

“Yes,” she said as she stepped out from behind the screen and sauntered over to the bed. 

The moonlight streaming in cast silvered shadows against the black robe she was wearing. She had decided to forgo a wig but still had her hair piled high on her head, the long column of her throat bared for him with a deep V. 

“Something I have never done before, with anyone.” She added a little shyly.  _ This is important to her _ , he realized while his mind reeled with possibilities. Standing close to the edge of the bed she motioned for him to untie her robe. Cullen did so with eagerness and then groaned at the sight as the garment fell to the floor. Amie’s lingerie for the evening was a series of black ribbons which criss-crossed from her chest, around her waist and each thigh before fastening to the top of black sheer stockings. Her breasts and core remained beautifully bare and exposed to his ravenous gaze.

“Maker’s Breath,” Cullen said as he swept, long adoring caresses over the curves of her hips and across the plush softness of her thighs while his eyes watched how she arched into his touch. Amie sighed in appreciation and drew her silver chained pendant from her neck. With it in hand she crawled onto the bed to where he was sitting and pressed their lips together for a long languid kiss. He drew her onto his lap within a moment, determined to feel her nakedness against his own. Her soft mounds pushed against his hard planes and caused a delicious burn of friction as they slid their bodies together. Cullen’s hands now roamed over the bare skin of her back, her arms, her shoulders and he broke the kiss only to dip his head and suckle at her breasts. 

Amie ground her exposed core onto his covered length while he continued to palm and lick at her nipples. It would be the work of a moment to free his trapped erection and bury himself in that wet, welcoming heat. The temptation proved to be a distraction and he nipped too tightly over one of her rose buds, it caused her to hiss and she arched herself out from his grip. With a faint scowl she glared at him and Cullen smirked at her flushed cheeks and debauched expression. 

“What?” He asked innocently, bringing up his hand to cup at the soaked apex of her thighs. “I know you like it a little rough,” he murmured as he stroked his finger along her slit. There was no hiding her desire. Amie’s scowl dissipated with a small huff of aroused amusement, she pulled his hand from her core and pressed her pendant into his now open palm. “We’re going to need that,” she said before starting to shift her weight.

Cullen looked down at the twinkling pendent. He knew it contained her oil blend, she had used a few times on him while giving him massages. It was a muscle relaxant of sorts,  _ what could it be used for? _

Amie with a pleased hum stretched like a cat as she laid out over his lap. Her bared cheeks, pert and perfect, were presented to him.

“You’ll have to prepare me,” she said softly looking at the crystal ampule in his hands and 

then wiggled her ass in a tempting invitation.

Cullen felt his cock throb urgently in his breeches. Now he understood.  _ Sweet Andraste _ , she had never done this, she was trusting him with a first of sorts and his blood  _ boiled _ at the prospect.

“A-are you sure?” he rasped, the lust coloring his words.

“Yes. I trust you.”

Cullen wanted to kiss her out of happiness but his rising desire was too urgent to be ignored for a moment longer.

He removed the ornate stopper and applied a few drops onto his hand. He massaged her ass with firm, squeezing strokes. Each time passing over her tight ring of muscle to part her cheeks and also cover her in the sensuous lubricant. Amie sighed happily as he caressed her till her whole rear was slick and smooth.

Then, at the next wanting caress, Amie let out a small gasp as Cullen's index finger pressed into her untried hole. He worked the digit in slowly, feeling for any discomfort as he breached her virgin entrance. Amie was still but pliable as he explored and once his finger was hidden to the second knuckle he gave it a small curl. 

“Oh!” Amie cried with a sudden buck of her hips. He worked her there for a moment, enjoying her arousing pleasured whimpers before pressing further. 

“Mnnn, Cullen,” she panted beneath his sculptors hands.

With his finger fully planted he ran his free palm down her spine, offering soft strokes to help her relax into the unfamiliar sensations. 

“How does it feel?” He asked gently.

Amie hummed and rocked lightly back onto his hand “Nice.” Was her breathless reply “Different, but good.”

“Good,” Cullen said as he started to piston his finger slowly, in and out. Each time a little less jilted, a little faster and a little harder till Amie started to purr beneath him. Cullen could feel how tightly her walls gripped him even with the copious amount of oil,  _ she is going to be exquisite to claim there. _

Soon Amie was rolling her hips to meet each long stroke and so he deftly added his middle finger.

“Ah!” She cried at the intrusion, the additional width pushing her just that little further

“Shhh,” Cullen stroked her back, her hair, down her face to sooth her. “You’re doing so well. Sweet, beautiful Amie.”

He saw her lips tilt up at the praise and started the long, luxurious motion of his fingers once more. 

“We are going to take good care to make sure you’re ready for me.”

“Yes,” she agreed and kneeled up to bring her hands up to his tented pants.

While she started to work at the knot on the front of his breeches Cullen found her new position spread her oiled hole a little wider for him. Now he scissored and stretched with growing need as her hands tugged at the fabric concealing his rock hard length.

“Suck me,” he demanded as soon as he was freed and Amie rushed to comply. 

“Yes,” Cullen gasped as he watched her head bob over his length. His shaft was coated in her saliva while his fingers could now glide in and out of her clenching channel with just the right amount of resistance. Amie hummed around him as her body fell into a comfortable rhythm of suck and lick while any final discomfort from his thick digits receded into a pleasant stretch.

Cullen felt a tingle of precum leak from his tip that was quickly lapped up by her tongue and he groaned at the sight. He would spill down her throat if they waited any longer. Amie mewled in disappointment as his fingers were suddenly removed.

“On your back,” he rasped gruffly. “I want to look at you while I bury my cock into that tight ass of yours.”

Amie, skin scarlet and hair falling loose of her pinned up style, rushed to comply. Her green eyes were glassy with desire and almost black from the wide dilation of her pupils.

Cullen pulled one of her stocking covered legs up and over his shoulder, the other was wrapped high on his waist so that she was angled just right to be pierced.

With painstaking slowness he pushed his engorged head past her tight ring of resistance.

Cullen watched with wide eyes as his length disappeared inch by glorious inch.

_ Hot, slick. _ Beneath him Amie wriggled, her lashes fluttering as his solid girth filled her previously untouched walls. He gripped tightly onto her hips and dragged her body firmly up to meet the final inch of his length. Reveling in the pleasured mewl she gave as he fully sheathed himself.

It was more euphoric then he could have imagined. Amie’s channel squeezed his girth even when he held still.

Then when he started to move “Fuck, you feel so good.” 

His first thrusts were shallow and searching. Pulsing little jolts as he carved a space out for himself within her constricting walls. When satisfied her eyes were screwed shut only from pleasure he drew his hard length out to the tip, before sliding back with a primal grunt. Amie gasped in delight as he repeated the action. Claiming her like no one else.  _ No one else. Only me. mine. _

“You’re mine now Amie.” He verbalized his thoughts with a growl.

“Yes.” She shouted as he filled her with a sudden thrust once more.

She looked divine as she rolled her body up to meet each deep, slow stroke.

“No one has fucked you like this before. And no one else ever will.”

“Yes!”

With his moving in their own steady rhythm Cullen reached forward. “This is mine.” He said as he drew his fingers along her ruby lips. With an unasked command she drew them into her mouth and sucked them eagerly. He could feel her tongue as it lapped at each digit in turn. Sucking on them with the same fervor she had bestowed upon his cock.

“And these are mine.” He said as his free hand squeezed and grasped at her bouncing chest. Amie bucked into his searching caress, her soft skin a contrast against his rough palm.

Cullen growled and pulled his wet fingers from her mouth, pausing to circle her neglected clit two, three times before- “And your sweet cunt is mine.” Tilting his hand just so he pushed the two digits into her soaked core.

“CULLEN!” She screamed as his fingers immediately began to match the timing of his thrusts.

“Look at you, stuffed full of my fingers and cock.”

“So. Full.” She moaned, her body tightening as the multitude of sensations dragged her towards her end. His thumb brushed over her pearl with every hard impale onto his length and she began to beg “more, please!”

His fingers curled and coaxed at the special spot inside her while his body began to ram into hers, harder and faster.

“Amie swear if there was a way for me to fuck your mouth at the same time as your tight cunt I would. I want all of you.”

“YES!” She screamed as the crescendo of sensations finally became too much.

Amie, clawed at the bed sheets. Her back bending into a deep bow as she came with a silent moan of transcendent euphoria. Cullen’s furious hips stuttered as he felt her walls squeeze him almost to the point of pain. 

“Mine, Mine, MINE!” He said with a roar. His taut balls released streams of his seed into her pulsing ass. White hot pleasure seizing every fiber, every  _ cell _ of his being.

  
  


\----

“I would much rather stay here with you.” Cullen grumbled as Amie fastened his mantle around his shoulders.

She tutted and rolled his eyes, it was the fifth such protest he had made.

“Cullen. The Inquisitor herself has invited you to a card game you should go. Relax.”

Cullen looked down at their now joined hands “But we leave tomorrow and-”

She squeezed in what she hopes was a reassuring gesture. “And you have just had me for the second time today.  _ Go _ , see your friends and we can try for a third later.” 

“What about you?” He asked as she ushered him towards his office door.

“I’ll be here with my letters waiting for your return.”

With a chaste press of her lips against his she pushed him out of the door.

She heard his resigned sigh from the otherside of the doorway and gave a self indulgent giggle. He had been glued to her side like an imprinted Mabari since the day she stepped back from her ‘full’ role as a courtesan. Both of them were as busy as ever, Cullen even more so with his preparations for the battle but every free minute he had was spent doting, pleasuring and loving her. Amie didn’t mind typically but his insatiable appetite had meant that she had fallen a little behind on her correspondence. She wanted to be fully appraised before he left on the morrow, Maker knew she would be too distracted with worry to concern herself much with letters when he was away.

With the prospect of a pleasant evening to herself, before her ever lustful lover came back, she settled down at his desk to read and write at her leisure.

Three hours later Amie was startled when the door slammed open from the outside. A gust of wind swept in and she looked over the flurry of papers to see Cullen, completely nude sprinting to his ladder.

Amie’s shocked gasp broke into a giggle as Cullen, unusually, slipped on the lowest rung, his feet a little damp from the outer battlements.

“Cullen,” she laughed, “are you drunk?”

He looked up, his whisky eyes full of mischief “Perhaps. Bull was pouring the drinks and Josephine cheats at cards.”

Amie stifled her returning chuckle behind her hands.

“Go and get some clothes on!” She chastised him, “I'll prepare you some tea, you can’t be leading an army with a cold.”

Cullen ascended to dress and Amie closed the office door that was still slamming on its hinges. The storm brewing outside sent a cold blustery chill into the previously cosy space causing her to shiver. Then she turned to pick up the scattered desk papers from the floor.  _ The order will be ruined but _ -

Her hand hesitated over the first note she saw.

The Trevelyan seal... Had one of hers gotten muddled.  _ No, _ she left the last letter from her brother back in her room.

Despite herself she scanned the contents.

_ Father is never likely to wake but I’m certain even he would be happy at this news. _

_ Commander you have my blessing of course.  _ _ It is more than we could have hope - _

_ I do just want her to be happy. I hope this - _

Amies hand shook as she read more. A heavy, lead weight of shame and betrayal settled in her gut.

_ You understand if I don’t make this information public till the happy event has taken place. It will be better to reintroduce her to the family as the wife of the Commander rather than the Courtesan she has been living as. _

Amie read the note again. She must be wrong,  _ he wouldn't _ . Her eyes started to well with tears as the sad realization rooted itself deeply in her heart.

She didn’t hear him approach and barely even felt his hand on her shoulder. 

As she spun on her heel she crumpled the letter in a fury.

“H-how...How could YOU!” She asked breathless at first, not trusting her full voice.

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly “I- I’m sorry. Bull kept pouring me drinks and I-”

“Not that. THIS!” She shrieked and pushed the crumpled parchment into his chest.

Cullen looked down, saw the horse marked seal and flushed scarlet.

“Oh. You weren’t supposed to see that. I wanted to wait till after the battle at least, till the time was right but I suppose seeing as you know now.”

Before her disbelieving eyes he started to wobble onto one knee.

Amie hissed in anger “Get. Up!”

“But-”

She couldn't look at him. How had he so badly misjudged her. How had she allowed herself to fall into the trap.

“How could you do this?” She asked numbly as she stared at the papers that were still scattered across the floor.

Cullen stammered “I, I just wanted everything to be proper.”

“You went behind my back.” She retorted coldly.

“No, well yes but not like-”

“You think now ‘I’m yours’ I am no longer a person but an object. That you can make decisions for me?”

“N-never Amie. Please it’s just tradition.”

She couldn’t hear his quiet plea over her seething rage.

“You, who claimed to see me as something more have talked about me as if I am nothing more than a spent mare. Bargained for me with a brother who wanted only to have me married off to mask his shame!”

“Amie that’s not true. I asked for his blessing not permission I would never presume-”

She prodded his chest angrily “YOU DID. You have!”

Amie couldn’t stop the tears from falling. No amount of training, or experience in masking her emotions could cover the sting of betrayal she felt.

“I shall see myself out Commander.” She said as she moved past him.

Behind her Cullen begged in a broken voice.

“I just wanted to make you happy.”

The door caught the wind as she departed and slammed shut with a resounding thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry Cullen :(


	16. Debate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My wonderful sister witch and all round magnificent author jacklyn_flynn wrote a piece for me!  
> It's a sinful little one shot with strip chess and I love it XD
> 
> Loser takes all - https://archiveofourown.org/works/27535633  
> \---
> 
> This will be my last update till the new year! Hope you all have a great one x
> 
> \---  
> CW: Sexual Assault

Every day Amie climbed the steps of Leliana's tower. And every day she returned to her room with a bundle of letters in her arms. Letters from close friends, contacts, fellow Courtesans and Courtiers. But never was the one among them that she really wanted.

_“Commander,”_ she sighed vexed and a little sad after another disappointment. 

Then again what was she expecting? After she had stormed out of his room he had only been granted one short private conversation with her. A brisk and cold ten seconds in a concealed alcove where Amie in no uncertain terms told him that she was still angry and needed both time and space.

He had left her side disappointed, then left their shared home of Skyhold an hour after that. 

His armor glinted in the morning light as he rode at the head of the Inquisitions army. 

She had watched on of course, outwardly impassive alongside the other Nobility. The wretched twist in her gut she felt as he disappeared from view she attributed to her still being angry. And if a short while later Amie began to feel something like unhappiness at their parting, she ensured that her work kept her busy. Her spirits couldn’t afford to be depressed for long. She was after all a one woman propaganda machine and just because the Nobility were away didn’t mean her influence waned.

Her good word, her continued patronage of the Inquisition mattered. She wrote pieces for the weekly circulars in Orlais and Anitva. Sent ravens to influential editors and gently swayed the public opinion during the lull and agonizing wait for real news.

And it was an agonizing wait. 

_Last time he went away he came back ill_ . She thought darkly, remembering how gaunt he had been following his trip to the Shrine of Dumat. Although it was challenging at the time and she would certainly never wish him ill... those days caring for him had brought them closer together. Perhaps if they were to take some leave, a trip away just the two of them after this battle they could reconnect? _No, I won’t assume anything._

The wait gave her time to reflect, time to consider if she had in fact over reacted? _Possibly._

Cullen had given instructions for the offending letter from her brother to be delivered to her after his departure. It came with a note that simply said.

_Do with this as you wish._

_C_

That was it. No plea or request for forgiveness. No explanations or apologies.

Affronted to even see it again Amie had stuffed the offending parchment into a drawer. She would never burn letters but hoped, foolishly, that she would forget it even existed. 

She didn’t. She could no sooner forget about it then she could forget how Cullen’s face lit up as he had dropped to one knee.

 _So sure of himself, arrogant man._ She reflected, feeling righteous in her anger on that first day.

 _To ask for my family’s blessing, the presumption!_ She thought on the second.

 _He looked so happy too_. She recalled on the third, her eyes shifting to the drawer in question. Her fingers tapping in irritation on her desk at the temptation within arms reach.

 _I don’t think I have ever seen him look so hurt as when I left_. She conceded by the fourth.

On the fifth day with shaking hands she finally took out the letter.

The effluent passage, the one she had skim read when she’d originally found the note still irked her. Her Brother’s approval of the idea was positive, encouraging and almost grotesque in it’s praise for the Commander and the clever arrangement which would happily conceal all of Amie’s decade as a Courtesan.

However what followed was a surprise.

_Despite the disagreement which persists between us, one that I recognize now was entirely of my own making, you must know that I only am thinking of her happiness._

_She’s my younger sister._

_Whether she chooses to forgive me or not remains in the balance. Maker knows, I have already hurt her enough for a lifetime. And for that reason I would see that the man who will be her husband, should she ever agree to marry, be one who would not hurt her as her family have._

_If you are fortunate enough to secure her favor, then see that you adhere to this wish._

Amie swallowed back a small lump that had lodged in her throat.

By the tenth day she had read the letter more times than she could recall. The feelings it dredged up within her raged between offended indignation, anxious excitement and most unfamiliarly for one who had always acted with such decisiveness...regret.

* * *

The Inquisition were victorious. Their fame was secured. 

Everyone who hadn’t already openly pledged their support now did so in droves.Therefore even before the Army and it’s Commander had returned Amie was inundated with salons, suppers and social niceties for the hordes of noble guests who needed to be wooed into parting with their inherited gold. Among them was her old friend Lord Merlot. Although she was happy to see him well, she was even more relieved to recognize that she felt absolutely nothing for the man that she’d once believed she loved. 

There was only one man who now occupied her thoughts. 

When the Inquisitor in her triumph did return it was with all the fanfare Josephine could muster. Banners were draped, trumpets sound and birds were released. 

The Commander stood by Inquisitor Lavellan’s side proudly as she addressed the gathered well-wishers and returning soldiers. 

_He looks well,_ she thought, relieved. _Better than well,_ she conceded as she struggled to mask her admiration. Cullen’s skin was tanned from the desert sun and his hair brightened by it. If the fluttering fans and whispers of the assembled ladies were any indication, others had noticed too. Amie tried to ignore the small seed of jealousy that sprouted within her as he walked side by side with Fi’laurel into the throng of waiting well wishers.

Even if she had wanted to... which she _absolutely definitely did not,_ having remembered that not a single note had come from him during the campaign, it was impossible to approach him in such a crowd. 

And besides, would he even want to see her? Amie had sent her Commander to war with nothing but bitter words at his back. She had refused him. Made him vulnerable. Between her lingering anger and what she was sure must be an implacable resentment on his side there was no hope.

 _Perhaps he doesn’t care for me anymore?_ She thought as she walked restlessly around the keep for some time. She didn’t want to return to her room, but was too irritable to be among people. _To the chapel then._ Her faith she was sure she could turn to for reprieve.

  
  


“-ou for granting us victory. May the souls of those who fell be guided to the Makers side by your grace -”

Amie’s stomach dropped as she heard his voice, clear and confident. Then she panicked as at the sound of her footsteps he stopped speaking.

“F-forgive me I didn’t mean to interrupt your prayers.”

He recognized her voice, he must have, for she saw his shoulders stiffen. It hurt to have him act so formal about her.

“I was just leaving,” he said in a controlled tone as he rose from his knees.

Her heart heaved in her chest when he turned. The dim light and flickering candles made his complexion glow. _Cullen._ He was home, he was safe, he was here and _Maker_ had she missed him.

“I prayed every day for your victory!” Amie started, the outburst surprising her. She covered her mouth with her fingers then felt her cheeks flush when Cullen replied with a small tilt of his head.

“It seems they were heard.”

Neither of them made a move to leave, the silence between them hung heavy. Amie’s hands left her lips and she balled them into fists by her side. There was too much to say and she didn't know where to start.

“You didn’t write,” she said quietly, raising her eyes to his.

“Neither did you,” he replied a little sternly, before softening at her wounded expression “I-I did not want to presume.”

“That’s wise,” she replied. Holding his gaze steady and hoping to convey some small iota of her conflicted feelings with her purposefully chosen words. “Letters can often lose their meaning, their tone can so easily be mis-interpreted.”

“Cullen-”

“Amie I -” They both rushed to speak, only to stop in their shared embarrassment.

In the awkward pause that followed the bell from the gate tower started to ring. The one that signified new arrivals were approaching Skyhold. Amie squeezed her eyes shut tightly for a second. Willing the bell to stop. It didn’t. She was needed. The tiny slither of emotion she had been able to gleam in his eyes was hidden behind his renewed caution.

“It seems I have work to do. Good Day Commander.”

He gave a polite bow, she a small curtsy.

Then she departed without a returning glance, the candles flickered from the swiftness of her retreat. Cullen didn’t chase after her. They had spoken, that was enough for now. Tonight would be the welcome gala for the arriving nobility. He would be in attendance. _Maybe he will approach me then?_

She sighed sadly. To think he had taken the knee for her… now it felt as if their relationship was back to its infancy.

* * *

  
  


Amie was dressed in a deep Maroon gown and matching wig. The color had been selected by Josephine and Madame De Fer as it was suitable for mourning those lives that were lost in the battle while also recognizing that the Inquisition were the victors. 

Any resemblance to the purples of royalty was _purely coincidental_ and absolutely intentional.

The Commander was in the same cut of formal dress that he had worn for Halamshiral, but in the new colors, crimson for maroon, the sapphire sash exchanged for black silk. 

Just like earlier in the day he looked striking and just as before Amie found herself unable to approach him.

She had greeted him formally of course. A sweeping curtsy to the Inquisitor’s dais to which Cullen was stood to the right. But from that moment on she had been required to dance and entertain. She had constant requests, mostly drunken, almost all lecherous but instead of her practiced reply she said instead. 

“I am sorry but I shan’t be attending anyone this evening.” If she was pressed for a reason she told them it was because of her monthlies. That wasn’t true. The herbs she took to prevent child suppressed her cycles but it was enough to curb the tongue of any man. The real reason was hers alone. Hope it seemed was a hard thing to kill.

The few free moments she did have between partners she looked over to him. He was always deep in conversation with the inner circle or the Inquisitor herself. Once or twice she thought she felt his eyes on her _but i’m starting to think it’s just my imagination_. She thought, dejected. 

“Lady Amie.”

“My dear Lord Merlot.” Amie smiled as a kiss was placed on her hand. 

“It has been too long, where is your lovely wife?” She asked as a usual pleasantry.

Merlot smiled charmingly “She prefers not to travel. Have I been fortunate enough to catch you unattended?”

Amie giggled, at least this ex lover was willing to talk with her. “You have, would you care for a dance?”

“How about a walk for old times sake.”

Amie’s lips formed a perfect smile but she took a moment to consider the request. It wasn’t normal procedure but then she was no longer a courtesan. Merlot was rich. If she wanted to ensure his financial contribution she needed to take care not to offend him _and besides he is an old friend,_ she decided. Taking his offered arm and heading out into the night.

Merlot walked slowly away from the hall “I understand there are some pretty gardens around this way.” He said tugging on her arm.

“Yes, we can take a turn before heading back to the hall. It will give us a chance to discuss the terms of your donations.”

“Amie!” he laughed “It is too much.”

Amie’s manners didn’t falter “I don’t think the Inquisition is asking too much for a man of your means.”

Merlot remained silent till they reached the garden. Upon seeing the space deserted save for them he rounded on her. “I mean this charade is too much. Must we talk of business. I have longed to have you in my arms again.”

Amie started in shock as his arms encircled her. She took a quick step back, breaking his hold and spoke through a forced smile.

“Ah ah monsieur I must protest. Your Lady wife has most certainly not given you her blessing to be carrying on this way.”

“Forget my wife, I loathe her.” Merlot droned as he caught her by the waist. 

“My Lord you don’t mean that, I must ask you to release me.” She said firmly, putting her hands up to his shoulders and pushing.

He grabbed her wrists in a firm grip. “I think of you when I’m ploughing her you know. You always were the best lay.”

Any effort to remain courteous fell away as a very real, very chilling fear seized Amie.

“Please stop. Don’t say these things!” She tried to pull back her arms but he closed in on her, the alcohol on his breath reeked.

“You never used to complain, be a good little whore now.”

“Let Me Go!”

“Don’t fight it-” Merlot was suddenly ripped away from her.

Amie watched, unblinking as Cullen wrenched the confused Lord up by his collar and slammed his back against a wall.

A warning growl rumbled in his chest while the panicked attacker pushed feebly at the strong hand pinning him.

Amie wanted to run away but found herself unable to move from the sight. He held him there, dangling till Merlot's face began to look purple. The Commander's fist was shaking by his side his whole being threatening and imposing.

“If you ever lay a hand on her again. I will string you up from the battlements."

"But -b-"

" _She is mine_." Cullen squeezed Merlot's throat. Then dropped him to the ground with a thud. Wheezing and coughing Merlot crawled away and Cullen, suddenly soft approached her with concern in his eyes that had just been full of violence.

Amie shivered, reeling. In shock at what had almost happened and the danger she had just been in. In shock at Cullen's sudden tenderness as he studied her wrists for bruising. Such a contrast to his negligence of her since his return. 

She was angry at herself for naivety when it came to Merlot. Angrier still at Merlot but somehow her rage found itself centered on Cullen as her target.

Now, _now_ he came to her. To see her humiliation. She pulled away from his touch.

“Amie, Are you alright?” He questioned gently. 

“What are you doing?!” She snapped. 

He waved a hand as if it was self explanatory “Stopping you from being molested.” 

“I was working,” she said and folded her arms. She wouldn’t show weakness.

“I thought you had reduced your fee so you didn't have to-” Cullen’s words died in his throat. Amie was incensed. Did he really think so little of her, after she begged the inquisition to adjust her contract.

She seethed and said again “I was working.”

\---

All night Cullen had watched her dancing with other men. It was hard not to, she was the most beautiful creature in the room and he had missed her so much while he had been away. When she had stumbled upon him in the chapel earlier in the day it had taken all of discipline to remain professional. 

He had been at war with himself about whether or not to write to her while on campaign. For many of the reasons he now held himself back in her presence.

 _She’s made it clear she wants space._ His letters would be unwelcome then surely? 

He resolved not to presume she still held any affections for him. Till she indicated otherwise. 

And so he watched her. She was invariably distracted with her patrons. He saw them lean in and arrogantly proposition her. But what stung more was that she replied every time with a pretty smile. 

Cullen couldn’t lip read, but it was enough of a confirmation for him. He sulked, felt angry. Were her promises to stop working for nothing? Then when he saw her leave the hall with that pompous prick of a Lord his temper frayed. At the very least he deserved some honesty from her. If she didn’t care for him better he knew.

If his ire had been awakened at her courting suitors, the sight of one of them assaulting her made him see red. It was only Amie's presence that stopped him from seriously injuring the attacker.

That anger soon dissipated after the Lord was swiftly chastised, then returned in force at Amie's apparent indifference.

“I was working.” She said, irritated at him and not the man who had just tried to assault her.

Cullen snarled “Are you blind woman? Have I not just stopped you from being - being manhandled!” 

Amie’s eyes flashed with anger in the moonlight. “Manhandled! Yet again reducing me to an object.”

“I would never-”

“You have and you did.” With angry steps she walked towards him and jabbed him in the chest with her finger. “I am not yours!” 

“I know!” He shouted back exasperated for himself and at her sudden nearness.

“I can touch whoever I want,” she said with another prod. Cullen growled under his breath. His blood was too hot, she was too near. He made her so angry and yet he had never wanted someone more in his pitiful existence.

“I know.” he rasped as he saw her chest heaving against the confines of her gown.

“I can kiss whoever I want,” she said as she prowled forwards. Cullen stepped back trying to put some distance between them. He realized he had inadvertently drawn them into a secluded corner Hidden between the stone pillars of an overgrown gazebo. 

Cullen swallowed, his fingers twitched by his sides Maker but he longed to touch her. 

“I know,” He breathed, drawing in her arousing scent as he did.

“And I can fuck whoever I want,” she said as she fixed him with a challenging glare. Her green eyes bore into his gold ones, unrepentant and demanding. The energy between them crackled in it’s intensity.

Cullen saw, for half a second, that her gaze dropped to his scarred lips. Her color was high now, her irises dilating. _Could she?_ He took a chance.

“And who do you want?” 

  
  


There was a second. Two. Three.

Then Amie threw herself at his lips.

The relief Cullen felt was earth-shattering. Holding her in his arms again, feeling her body pressed hungrily against his, hot and writhing… It robbed him of reason.

They still needed to talk but words had to wait till their appetites were sated. 

Her kiss was hard and demanding and within a moment Cullen felt his back strike one of the stone pillars behind him. He licked against her lips, his tongue begging for entrance. In response to his instance she bit him then at his sharp inhale of pain she flicked her tongue against his. They moaned together.

Her hands were everywhere at once. Peeling her long gloves from her arms then repeating the motion for his. Her hands were softer than he remembered them as she cupped and stroked his face. Tender and gentle unlike the demanding hunger of her lips. She moved to unfasten the ornate pin that kept his silk sash in place, then ripped open his jacket.

Amie, usually so careful with clothing, discarded all the garments carelessly on the floor beside them. Nothing mattered but the sight and touch and need to feel as much of the other as possible.

His hands were scarcely less eager. He held her waist in a vice like grip to drag her body against his, squeezed over her gown covered ass and tugged at her long waves. As her head tilted back and the elegant column of her throat was exposed to him he rejoiced in the little breathy ‘“yes!” he drew from her. She melted against him he nipped and kissed her her sensitive skin. She tasted divine. 

With a frustrated groan Amie stepped back to rip open the lacing at his neck of his shirt, at the same moment he tore the stays on the front of her gown eager to see more of her. Again she didn't even seem to care that buttons went flying and seams were ripped. 

“You, irritating. Arrogant man!” She gasped as Cullen buried himself in her decolletage and beautiful bared breasts. Kissing and licking and marking her sweet skin while she arched in his arms. Her hands, still moving urgently, tugged at his belt and the complicated dress lacings of his breeches. His erection was already trapped painfully in his pants. He groaned in relief when her hands, _her sinful soft hands_ , stroked along his hard and now freed length. 

Cullen felt intoxicated and bucked eagerly at her ministrations. They may be secluded here but it was still public. Anyone could walk by but nothing would stop him from having her. 

“I can’t wait. I need you,” she whimpered, sharing the same thoughts as him.

With a growl she pushed down on his shoulder. Cullen’s pants restricted his movement and he slid to the floor with a thump. Before he could drag her down to join him she was already over him, straddling his thighs. 

His hands tugged at her heavy skirts, shifting the fabric so he could feel that welcoming wet heat against his sex. He was eternally grateful that she never wore underwear beneath her evening gowns.

“Amie,” he rasped as his swollen head nudged at her slick entrance. 

She pressed close to his ear and said with hiss. “Fuck me Commander.”

She didn’t need to beg.

“CULLEN!” Amie cried as he filled her in a hard sharp thrust. There could be no time to revel in the sweetness of their joining, no time for her to adjust to his girth after so long away.

Mad with desire Cullen gripped her hips tightly and moved.

“Yes! I’ve missed you so much.” She sobbed as he set a hard pace. It was moments before she started to meet each hard penetration with an eagerness of her own. Heedless of the noise of their panting, their bodies colliding or their very public location Amie moaned. 

She rode him with abandon. Rising up high on her knees, his cock withdrawn to the tip before impaling herself roughly on his length. Cullen guided her movements with one hand on her hips and the other touching the plump flesh of her arse.

She brought their lips together. Licked into his mouth and captured his grunts of pleasure as her slick cunt caressed every heightened nerve in his rigid cock. He tilted his pelvis just so, touching that electric spot inside her and Amie threw her head back with a keening cry. 

Cullen panted as she took him higher. He looked up adoringly at the angel riding in his lap, he couldn’t let this be the last time. 

“Amie, I-I’m so sorry. I am the worst.”

Her hips slowed to a gentle roll as she gazed down at him, her fingers stroking along his stubble. Her stained lips tilted up into a small smile and she pressed a feather light kiss to his forehead.

“Yes you are.” 

“But you’re also good.” She said and moaned as he took one of her nipples into his mouth, “So, so good!” 

Hips and hands and tongue. Suckling at her breasts till her nipples were red, slick and peaked. Bouncing her on his cock over and over till her cunt began to throb.

Cullen couldn’t see the tears forming in her eyes as the sensations, physical and emotional built within her. But he still heard her quite whisper 

“You are the worst and the best...and I love you.”

 _What?_ Cullen’s eyes snapped up just as hers squeezed shut, he saw the silver sparkle of a tear run down her flushed cheek.

“I love you,” she sobbed as her back arched like a bow. 

“I LOVE YOU!” she screamed as she came apart around him.

 _She loves me._ Pleasure flooded into Cullen at her words. Her whole body contracted and squeezed his still pistoning cock. 

_She loves me._ It was enough to undo him.

Cullen cleaved Amie to him as he drove into her tight and willing body, her channel pulsing and rendering him incoherent. He praised, grunted and heard her answering sighs as her orgasm sent vibrating shivers across her frame. His vision turned to white, the tumult of ecstasy that now pervaded his senses was blinding in its intensity. 

With a roar he felt his balls draw tight, then release as he filled her with his hot seed. His hips rutted and pushed his spend deeply into her while her admission of _love_ wrapped itself about his heart.

_She loves me._


	17. Anthropology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cullen's dreams finally come true.
> 
> TW: Rough sex, con dub-con, this is the filthiest thing I have ever written.  
> Please note I have taken liberties with how aphrodisiacs and the male biology works in this chapter. This is fan fiction not a Sex-Ed lesson.
> 
> The Avvar in this chapter is Swedish and courtesy of the wonderful FoxInBoots

After their desperate reconciliation in the garden Cullen had hastily proposed that the couple took a trip to escape scrutiny for a few days. Arrangements were made and within a day they had departed. Both eagerly looked forward to a precious week of peace and quiet away from their respective duties, a much needed break from Skyhold and a vital chance to talk. 

Talk they had. Less about the future and the deeper promises that had been hinted at between them but rather filthy whisperings and deepest desires, passed like treasured secrets between their ragged breaths. 

How he had missed her while he was at war, how he had taken himself in hand at the thought of her long legs wrapped around him. How she had screamed his name into her pillow, muffling her cries of pleasure as she’d substituted his fingers for hers.

He told her how furiously jealous he had been of her courting at the celebration ball and the dark plan he had formed to have her before the entire population of Skyhold.

“I like to keep my private life private but at that moment I could think of nothing more fitting than taking you before all of them.” He confessed, embarrassed. “Marking my territory like an animal.”

Amie didn’t judge him for his sentiments, she never had. It was why her assertion, that Desire had nothing to tempt him with rang true and even now kept the worst of his nightmares at bay.

There were more truths to be spilled.

About how he had been bewitched since her first appearance in his office. That it had prompted an Avvar fantasy in his mind he still couldn't quite shake. How he never,  _ ever _ wanted to share her yet at the same time could admit that the thought of seeing her fucked by another aroused him painfully. He wanted her ass again. He wanted her to tie him up again. He wanted everything and more but first… first they had to talk.

“Later.” Amie had smirked as she pushed him out of the little cottage they were to call their home for the next week.

“What?”

“Go and occupy yourself for three hours. I have preparations to make.”

He walked along to the little jetty of his childhood resolving to bring Amie here on the morrow. It was important to him and he wanted to share it, share everything with her.

“What could she be up to?” He muttered to himself while skipping a stone, the concentric ripples doing little to steady the butterflies in his stomach.

During the journey their amorous activities had been fast and fraught affairs. The horses left at the roadside while he pulled Amie behind a tree, ruffling up her skirts and driving her body against the rough bark.

Now they were here and he wanted to take his time with her. Now she had confessed he wanted them to make love sweetly and slowly and...

...Amie, it seemed, had other ideas.

Cullen’s eyes widened in surprise as he took in the decorated cottage.

She stood from where she was busy adjusting some furs around a richly decorated, high backed chair. It looked almost like a throne.

The fire was roaring and everywhere were pelts and animal skins. On the walls, over tables and on the floors along with heaps of cushions and a large thick rug that must have been made from the hides of 50 druffalo.

“My Thane,” came her purr as she approached him with her seductive smile.

_ Thane?  _ He stammered “A-Amie?”

A flash of nervousness crossed her typically serene features and she rushed to explain. 

“I was relieved when you mentioned your Avvar fantasy. As it happens...” she gestured to the fur lined floor. The ‘throne’ equally padded and decadent “-I had had a similar thought myself and made some preparations ahead of time.”

Cullen remained speechless. He noticed the platter of food already prepared, some roast meat, berries and an ewer of what looked to be mead.

It was all done with so much care, as if plucked from his own mind. He inwardly rejoiced at the possibilities.

However at his ongoing silence Amie asked, a little guarded “Have I misunderstood? If you don’t want to I can put things away-”

“No!” He looked at her, his heart swelled at her visible relief.

“No, Amie it’s perfect. I only wish I'd known. I could have found some more suitable clothes to wear and-”

“Don’t worry about that!” She beamed and picked up a bundle and small pot from one table.

“May I?” She looked at him hopefully. 

His reply was an emphatic “ _ Yes _ .”

Cullen stripped nude and Amie with her soft skilled hands dressed him again. 

His pants were exchanged for a skirt and large belt, no underwear of course. His calves and forearms, covered in leather and fur greaves and bracers. His shirt was not replaced and instead he was left bare chested with an unusual half cape fastened about his shoulders.

Then came the paint. Blue, bold and swirling. It tickled teasingly as she applied it.

And while she dressed him she discussed in detail what was to happen. Nothing was beneath her notice, everything had to be consented.. 

“I also have a stimulant for you, it’s safe and not dissimilar to what the Avvar use in their own rituals.”

“Oh?”  _ Stimulant? _ He thought with a chuckle, already aware of the steady swelling beneath his furs.

“Amie I assure you I’m not going to have any difficulty perfor - OW!”

She prodded him with the brush and a large smear of cool paint trickled down his chest and over his nipple. Amie seemingly liked the effect and allowed a few more irregular wet trails to fall down over his arms, chest and abdomen. The trail which followed the darkening hairs only stopped when it reached the soft suede leather draped low over his hips. The delt of his inguinal clear and cut like fine crystal.

“I assure you it makes no difference to your arousal in that sense.” He loved how she could so confidently discuss sexual matters. “It merely drives away the sleepiness that one feels after a release.” 

Cullen licked his lips in anticipation. She fully intended that this game would last all night. No wonder the food was pre-prepared, they would work themselves up quite the appetite.

Now she looked at him, a little seriously.

“Cullen I want you to remember I’m yours. Wooed and then captured as per tradition.” He didn’t think his face showed any confusion but she clarified again. Speaking with conviction.

“Let me be clear. I expect you to be rough, demanding and insistent.” He understood now what she was asking, Cullen swallowed. He could give her this.

“I-I can’t see that being a problem,” he said thinking of their early relationship. At least there were furs to protect her back this time. Far better this arrangement than the stone walls of the undercroft or the coarsely sanded wood of his desk.

Amie’s eyes followed the patterns in the already drying and cracking paint. There was no doubt she could see the rapidly forming evidence of his arousal. Her hands fluffed up his normally tightly controlled curls and she stepped back to admire her handywork. An alluring smile on her lips.

“What do you say then. Do you still want to explore this fantasy of yours with me?”

“Maker’s Breath yes.” Cullen uttered just as he closed the small distance between their bodies and pressed his hungry lips to hers.

His arms were round her in an instant ready to pull her body tight against his. But Amie pulled back. 

Her smile was filled with excitement “Go and sit down then. I just need to dress.”

He groaned but acquiesced, taking his throne as Thane.

While he waited Cullen’s heart thumped in his chest and he fidgeted with the fur lined leather of his unorthodox armor. He had never done anything like this before. It was exciting in it’s novelty and he didn’t want to disappoint her. 

She would make her entrance soon. So he hardened his face. His nervous heartbeat he instead considered a war drum, being beaten outside their abode to draw down the lustful spirits and set pace to their passions.

He recalled what Avvar Gods he knew. Amie would appreciate the details after going through so much trouble. He knew a few phrases in Avvar from their dealings in the Frostbacks but he wasn’t confident enough to speak the language himself.

Most important he considered her words. He was Lord here, she was his and she wanted him demanding.  _ As if there is anything I would not do to please her. _ He was to be the dominant party but there was no doubt where the real power lay.

Amie emerged from the bedroom and Cullen drank in the sight of her.

Her hair was her natural color, but longer somehow and lightly curled. It covered her breasts and fell down to skim the swell of her hips. Her makeup was minimal, made to enhance rather than alter her natural attractions. Her skin was unpainted and any lingering grime from the journey had been buffed away till she almost radiated in the glowing firelight.

Whereas he was richly dressed she wore only a simple floor length white petticoat with her arms fully bared. It was thin and he could just about see the dusky peak of her nipples through the fabric. He reigned in his alarm when he saw she had slipped a knot over her wrists, ash colored rope had no doubt been tightened with teeth and had drawn her wrists together.  _ Captured as per tradition, _ she had said. 

Alarm became arousal and Cullen felt his brow arch in interest.

For all his eagerness in observing her he remained immobile on his throne. One hand draped languidly on the arm rest, the other supporting his chin as he outwardly regarded her with nonchalance. Inwardly his heart rate surged in his ears, that beating drum more demanding now, a roar that couldn’t be ignored.

“Min Tegn.”  _ My Thane, _ she said in a voice that was lilting and familiar to his ear.

Amie stood at the foot of his Throne, her eyes downcast waiting patiently for him to address her.

“You know what is expected of you?” His voice sounded coarse even to his own ears

“Ja.”

“You know I will not be gentle.” 

A slight bob of her head. “I do.”

His nostrils flared at her easy submission and Cullen felt himself sink into their respective roles. He was Thane, she was his. 

“I need you to be covered in my marks, the evidence of our passion must paint your skin and your womb filled with my seed. Rilla demands it.”

The thought of invoking another god as a devout Andrastian would normally have amused Cullen but he was too intent on pleasing her and that involved playing his part, blasphemy be damned.

“Yes my Thane,” she said softly and looked up. Her pupils dilated as she took in the sight of him above her. His legs spread wide with skirts riding up reveal a large expanse of his muscled thigh. His eyes were golden in the dancing light, serious and observant like a hunter watching prey. His chest and arms bared save for the painted design. It was simple and drew the eye first to his broad planes and muscled shoulders, then downwards. Dipping like a falling arrow over his abdomen and down still to the risen sign of his fertility.

Cullen took a steadying breath then said “My cup, bring it.”

Amie, hands bound, brought forward an ornate chalice. She held it up to his lips and he took a sip of the honey sweetened aphrodisiac.

It was warm in his throat and left a pleasant taste on his tongue. As she had said it didn’t seem to make any difference to his arousal, he was already hard as a rock beneath his skirt but he did feel flush with energy. Perhaps it was a placebo but he enjoyed the heat simmering in his veins all the same.

He motioned for more and took a second sip, a moment later he tugged Amie forward by her bindings, one hand supported her while the other tilted her chin. She gasped in surprise at the sudden movement and Cullen, fixing his mouth over hers pushed the liquid past her parted lips messily.

Amie moaned as the sweetness hit her tongue and warmed its path down to her center. Her eyes slid closed as she savored the flavor. That wouldn’t do.

“Look at me,” he demanded with a jerk of her leashed hands, her lust clouded eyes sliding open to watch him watching her.

The sudden tug had caused a few droplets to spill from the half drained cup and Cullen, filled with wickedness, had a wonderful idea.

“Clean up this mess,” he said calmly. 

Amie began to look around for a cloth. “Yes my Thane I-”

“With your tongue.” He added with a smirk, triumphant as her eyes widened in understanding and a beautiful flush spread across her cheeks.

Without speaking further she bent towards him. The first droplet was on his pectoral and Cullen watched as her nimble pink tongue flicked out to collect it. The second was a little lower and required her to follow a small glistening trail. Cullen's hand on the arm rest squeezed and the wood creaked audibly. 

Like a butterfly fluttering between flowers she now set to work. Dipping her dead down to lick or suck away the little beads of nectar where they sat on his carved chest and abdomen. One drop was at the base of his serratus muscles and he fought a hiss of pleasure as she pressed her lips to the sensitive skin there. At last when his chest was glistening from her tongue she righted herself, waiting for a command but an undeniable challenge in her eyes.

“Strip.” He rasped, dropping the rope from his fingers lest he used it to pull those tempting lips down to his cock.  _ I want this to last for her, _ he thought. And right now the only way that would happen is if she was out of arms reach till he controlled his flaring desire.

Unsteadily she stepped back and deposited the cup on a side table. 

She returned to the center of the fur lined room and raised her bound hands to one shoulder. “Eyes up,” he said, not wanting to break the illusion of his control.

Her petticoat was a simple design. A small tug and the bow tied across her left shoulder came loose. One exquisite breast was exposed, heavy and supple. Her nipple peaked from the slight chill which brushed across her skin.

Cullen took slow steady breaths, he wanted her, he burned for her and as the second knot slipped and her garment pooled to ground Cullen found himself immediately on his feet.

“Woman,” he growled as he bathed in her naked form. Cullen hadn’t seen her fully nude in so long, since before Adamant. Every curve, every soft line he now sought to commit to memory. He stalked around her, looking over her pristine skin and supple flesh from every angel. Her core was bare, the neat thatch of dark curls normally present removed to offer him an more intimate view of the sex that so enamored him.

He fancied he could smell her, a clean alluring scent. Inviting in its simplicity, it begged to be mingled with his own masculine musk.

“Will you not touch me?” She asked over her shoulder coyly, seeming pleased with his appraisal.

“No.” His refusal surprised even him and he returned to his seat without so much as a fleeting touch of her skin.

Cullen watched as she squirmed under his gaze, she was confused, unsure and waiting for his instruction. His finger tapped on the arm rest while he considered what he would do to her first. 

His tapping.  _ Tap, tap, tap-tap. _ Was beating out a rhythm not unlike the drums he had been imagining. It sounded loud in the otherwise silence of the room, a steady building beat punctuated with the occasional crackle from the fireplace.

Cullen watched her face intently as the words seemed to appear, fully formed in his mind.

“Dance for me.”

Amie blinked, shocked but ready to comply with his wishes.

She started with a few simple movements, feeling the beat in her body as she stepped, twirled and paraded before him. Cullen watched on, itching to touch her. 

This dance was nothing like the formal steps they had danced together all those moons ago. This was fluid and sensual. Her snaking hips seemed to ripple movements up to her softly swaying breasts, and down to her extended and graceful limbs. Her long hair flicked around her as if it no longer obeyed the same laws of nature as the rest of them.

IT was no formal dance. He was even confident that it was not of the Avvar. This was one of her Courtesan’s allurements and he reveled in seeing such art, poise and radiating sexuality before him.

He remembered his role. He was Thane and he would enjoy this to the fullest. 

Eagerly he unfastened his leather belt then, seeking relief, slid his skirt till it bunched up around his hips.

Amie whimpered lightly when he took hold of his aching length. The gratification was instant, his swollen shaft throbbed after too long neglected. Cullen’s hand pumped slowly and languidly, his thumb swiping over his sensitive head. He watched her watch him, frustrated at her distraction.

“Dance!” he snapped. She jumped having been caught like a voyeur at his masturbation and as punishment Cullen tapped faster now.  _ Tap, Tap, tap-tap. _

“Yes my Thane.” Was her breathy reply as she swept her hands down from her neck, between the valley of her breasts to brush, for a sinful moment, over her own neglected sex. It was only for a second but Cullen saw her bite her lip to stifle the moan that the action caused her.

_ She is enjoying this as much as me, _ he thought with great satisfaction.

Amie threw her bound arms over her head, bending her back like a bow and somehow went further. Her hands touched the floor behind her and long legs circled like a windmill in the air. 

Amie made different shapes. Arching and spinning and swaying and  _ touching _ every part of her body she was able to reach.

Soon she found the floor. She created exquisite lines while writhing against the thick furs, her breasts purposefully brushed against the soft fabrics as she searched for friction. When she knelt before him, sending cascading rolls down her body, her bared pink folds put on perfect display.

Cullen felt a bead of precum pool at his tip.

“Amie, you’re divine.” He praised, bucking into his hand without thought.

Amie moved closer. She danced around him now and Cullen fought to remain as still as a statue as her fingers graced his arm, his thigh, everywhere but on the steadily pumping hand which edged him. She stepped behind him and swept her hands along his shoulders. The long rope dangled down over his chest. 

Cullen saw it. It was too tempting not to pull.

He did and she stumbled. Then with a dominant display of his strength Cullen carried her movement forwards. Her whole body was dragged up, over and down till her legs fell either side of his head. Her body inverted against his on the throne.

Amie’s yelp of surprise quickly transformed into a mewl of pleasure as Cullen pressed his face against her pink folds and licked.

She writhed against his chest in pleasure, slipping forwards till she was able to rest her elbows on the seat beneath his spread thighs. A position which brought her hot panting breaths directly in line with his painful erection.

Cullen slapped her ass cheek, conveniently at eye level and thrusted his hips upwards. No verbal command was needed. 

With enthusiasm Amie now applied herself to his cock. She started by taking long curling licks from the base of his shaft, up to tease and flick his sensitive slit. Cullen meanwhile lavished her core. His tongue spread her pooled wetness easily from her pearl, along her slit and up to her other, tighter ring of muscle.

Both were concentrating and devoted to bring their partners to completion soonest. Licking and sucking and basking in the opportunities such a position afforded them.

Cullen felt assured he would break first. Amie had swallowed him down. The angle of her body above him meant it was so, so easy to slip deep into her throat. He felt her contract about him, sensed the little hums of pleasure which she could not restrain vibrating along his length and down into his sac.

_ No, she breaks first _ . Cullen resolved, making it a test of willpower. He suckled at her clit and dragged his fingers up and along her soaked folds. Now wet from her arousal and his earlier probing he found it so, so easy to slip one long digit into her rarely tried hole. Amie keened above him and her hips rocked back against his fingers and face.

“You love having both your holes filled don’t you?”

“MMmnn.” She moaned as her thighs quivered around his head, a few tell tale twitches that hinted at her approaching end. She was close and so was he.

The hot, wet drag of her mouth, lips and tongue. The gentle suction and ease in which his hips now thrusted up into her throat proved too much.

Cullen doubled his efforts. Adding a second finger to her ass and latching to her nub to suckle at it. 

Simultaneously his hips started to buck more forcefully into the hot wetness. His eyes squeezed shut as he felt the first trickles of his release.

Amie orgasmed first. A cry muffled by his cock while her body spasmed in his arms. He held her steady as she shuddered above him.

With a grunt he felt his balls tighten, with a wave of relief the long coiled spring of pleasure snapped within him. Then anticipation that had been building for hours finally broke. And he filled her mouth to bursting.

Cullen helped her down and she kneeled before him. Using her petal soft lips to clean off what spend she had been unable to swallow. That which had trickled from her mouth onto his sac and thighs.

He expected to be oversensitive, to push her head away till he could catch his breath. But it didn’t come, already her butterfly’s tongue was renewing his desire again..

_ Is this the stimulants doing?  _ He wasn’t sure, and he didn't care. Within a minute he was hard again and Amie still pleased him.

Her chest was slick. A mix of sweat, and paint from where she had slid along his body. As she knelt her bound hands had the added effect of pushing her breasts together. 

“Hakon has given me a beautiful prize,” he said in character. Catching a hold of her bronzed hair as her head bobbed, up and down, lick and pull.

It felt good, too good.  _ I could spend all night with her mouth on me, _ he thought.  _ Or perhaps fuck those magnificent tits. _

He amused himself with such lewd fantasies till he remembered there was only one desire that had consumed him from the first. He recalled it now. _ Imagine her naked on furs, backlit by flame and presenting for her ‘thane.’ _

“Stop.” Came his order.

Amie released him with a pop and Cullen stood. With quick hands he unlaced the skirt and dropped it to the floor. He was now proudly erect, naked save for the fur on his limbs and the mantle still about his shoulders. Amie looked up at him with heavy lidded eyes, hanging on his every word.

“Are you ready to be mated now?”

_ “Ja _ .” _ Yes _ . Her agreement was instantaneous.

“Then  _ present _ yourself to me.”

Amie slipped down from the makeshift dais. Crawling forward as best she could with her still captured wrists.

She made a show of it. Hips up, face down, spread wide for his inspection. Her slick core was pink and perfect and ripe to be filled. Amie presented for him just like in his darkest desires.  _ Maker, _ she was everything he could imagine and more.

“Ta mig, min Tegn.”  _ Fuck me, my thane _ . She whispered over her shoulder with a coy smile.

Cullen fell to his knees behind her and struck her rear. Hard.

“I give the orders, not you.”

Amie captured her lip within her teeth as she tried to stop herself from crying out.

“Yes, forgive me.” Soothingly he stroked over the pink mark he had left. 

“Let this be your penance then,” he said, palming his length and stroking himself across her slit. “If you take my cock well enough, your absolution is assured.”

Amie moaned, pleased with his words.

Cullen started to push past her resistance, gritting his teeth to savor the parting of her walls. He would love her till his last breath for letting him explore this fantasy, to act out of turn and speak such _ filth _ .

“Så, så full.”  _ So, so full _ . She panted as he watched his thickly ridged cock slip into her sheath like she was made for him. Almost at the hilt Cullen snapped his hips forward, burying his last inch in her sweet cunt with a rough urgency. Amie yelped at the sudden stretch and he could admit to feeling a little pride as she writhed against her impaling.

“You’re mine-” He growled as he allowed himself to relish in the feeling of being fully seated.

“-and now I will  _ breed _ you.”

Cullen moved. Mercilessly and rough. Demanding and insistent just like she had asked of him. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips so that, as he pushed back into her heat, he could use the leverage to drag her hard against him. 

Amie gave a pretty little mewl with each thrust. This coupling was hard, fast and sure. Every time he was deep within her he touched the spot which he knew brought her the most pleasure. And despite his prior releases his sac still felt heavy and full. It slapped forwards as he rocked into her sex. The meeting of their bodies a rhythm, not unlike the drummed beat he played earlier.

Earlier he had self edged during her scintillating dance, this time he didn’t want it to last. He wanted to come quickly. To fill her with his spend now and then again and again. All thoughts of taking her to the pier, of having much needed discussions fled.

Now, in this cabin he was devoted to nothing but the hedonistic pursuit of their pleasures.

He twisted his hand in her long hair, tugging with his strength and causing her back to arch like a bow. She rose at his insistence, her bound hands bending and holding tight to the back of Cullen’s neck for support.

Once she was supported he shifted. One hand a bruising grip on her waist, the other against her pearl. 

“Cullen!” She gasped at the added stimulation.. 

Her breasts bounced, the slick mounds rising and falling with each hard penetration.

“Mer, snälla!”  _ More, please! _

He would give her more, he’d give her everything.

“Amie, my mate-”

She moaned at the word, her hips pinned between his circling fingers and his pistoning length.

“-my queen. Are you ready to receive my gift?”

“Ja! Din säd, fyll mig!”  _ Yes! Your seed, fill me.  _ She shouted as her body fractured beneath him. Her head snapped back with a silent scream. He felt her cunt constrict about him, milking him like a bull. Cullen bit against her shoulder to muffle his own groans. He stiffened within her and then, hot ribbons of seed surged from his body. 

With his final ecstatic shudder of pleasure he locked his hips against hers, keeping himself buried in her cunt so not one drop would be wasted.

\--- 

  
  


“Was that everything you imagined?” Amie asked as they bathed in the afterglow.

“Mmnn and more.” Cullen replied while sliding the ropes from her wrists. She inspected them but saw that they hadn’t chafed, the knot had only been for show.

She giggled as his nose nuzzled against her neck. He held her close and ground his re-hardening length against her thigh, taking small pleasures from her body even in rest.

_ Such an appetite _ , Amie thought with satisfaction,  _ and the aphrodisiac had been so weak _ . “How do you feel?” He murmured against her ear, his breath hot and tickling was followed up with a delicate kiss.

“Like i’m going to be sore tomorrow.” Amie said archly.

“Oh!” He pulled back, eyes wide. She brought her hand up to his stubbled cheek before he could flee too far.

“That didn’t mean I wanted you to stop.” She said. 

A dangerous smirk tugged at his lips. “Ah well then. Good.”

Their kiss was soft and luxurious, Amie’s hands stroked lovingly over his back and raked at his thoroughly disheveled curls.

There were still things they needed to talk about. But it could wait.

This night was for pleasure.

Amie was rolled more fully onto her back by the gentle coaxing of his body above hers. She stroked down his biceps as his hips nestled between her parted thighs.

They both sighed as he rutted gently against her, coating himself in her slick.

“I love you Amie.” He whispered as he dragged one of her legs up and high over his hip.

This night was for pleasure. And it was still young.

“Cullen,” she gasped as he rocked forwards. Pushing into her body, filling her with one slow sinful thrust. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm back to bring your sweet smutty dreams to life!
> 
> Thanks for your patience during my 2 month break. I hope this chapter has made up for the delay.  
> Kemvee xxx


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